


Family of Heroes

by ivorytower



Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Rescue Bots, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And maybe like five minutes of S2, F/M, This is NOT a fix-it fic, it's a crossover born from pure weirdness, spoilers for S1 TF:P, spoilers for S1 V:LD, spoiles for S1/S2 TF:RB, the shiro and keith thing is platonic/parental
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorytower/pseuds/ivorytower
Summary: Trapped in a collapsing wormhole, Allura and the Paladins of Voltron plummet through an unfamiliar green portal, and are separated, only to stumble on a world where giant, transforming robots do battle in the deserts of Jasper, Nevada... and rescue the citizens of Griffon Rock, Maine from the wrath of nature and their own technology. Oops?





	1. Chapter 1

“The wormhole!” Allura cried. “It’s collapsing!”

All around them, space pressed in, terrifying as it blurred by. Around the Castle, the five Lions and their Paladins tumbled and turned. Allura could feel their terror. The Lions could hear their pilots screaming in fear, in pain, in anger, and through them, so could Allura.

“We’re going to have to pick an end point,” Coran called from his console. “Princess, the controls--”

“Wait, look.” Allura gestured to the display, her heart pounding. “There, right there. An opening.”

“Are you sure, Princess?” the mechanic asked. “It’s not like one of the usual ones. It’s green.”

“If we don’t get out of here, we’ll all die,” Allura replied, and called out to the humans. “Make for that green opening in the wormhole! It’s your only chance!”

One by one, the Lions twisted around and hurtled themselves towards the green portal.

“They’re clear,” Coran said. “Now us.”

“Maneuvering--” Allura’s eyes widened. “We’ve lost steering. We can’t--”

And then, all around them, the world ended.

~ * ~

When he awoke, it was to the sound of ringing in his ears, punctuated by pounding that seemed to vibrate all the way through him. Impossible to ignore, he forced his eyes open, and squinted against the sight on his display.

The sun was setting with purple, orange, gold, and red spread across the horizon like ink, and highlighted the scene before him: huge shapes were moving in the fading light, with short bursts of coloured laser flashing back and forth. The source of the vibration was the sound of huge, heavy feet striking the ground and metal clashing against metal.

_A battle? Who’s fighting? Zarkon might have monsters, but no one else has Voltron. What’s going on here?_

The logical thing to do would be to sit tight and wait for orders. The thing he instinctively wanted to do was to get out of his Lion to go and take a look. The compromise was to take a look _in_ his Lion.

“Come on, Red,” Keith murmured. “Wake up. There’s no rest for the wicked.”

~ * ~

“Watch it, watch it! Bee, on your six!” Arcee called. She took three bounding leaps and hurtled herself through the air, flipping as she used the momentum of her arc to find her target. The vehicon she aimed at exploded, split down the middle from laserfire before she landed on the ground, and the impact let loose a burst of dust.

A dozen meters away, Bumblebee blurted out a series of machine noises, and spun, firing his blasters at the next vehicon. Around them, the shipment of energon shifted ominously. It had been an odd risk for the Decepticons to try moving them via Nevada’s many highways instead of using their ground bridge, and one the Autobots would take full advantage of.

There was something to be said about fighting a war wherein losing a battle meant both starving _and_ bleeding to death.

In the distance, a pair of voices, one wild, bombastic, and utterly mad, and the other calmer, quieter but with an intensity that made every one of them sit up and take notice, called out to each other.

“Optimus, old friend…”

“Megatron..!”

~ * ~

At first, he hoped, fleetingly, that he was dead. That the pain was over. The crushing weight of half-remembered memories lifted from his shoulders. The sting of defeat at the hands of the witch. The pieces of a puzzle that was only half resolved. There had hardly been time to think about it before he’d been dragged clear.

 _If I’m dead, who will save Allura?_ he wondered, dazed. _Who will save the others?_

Shirogane Takashi woke with a groan, and looked at his dead tactical display with no small amount of dismay.

They had been badly damaged during the escape from Zarkon’s base -- he and the Lion both -- and it seemed that the Black Lion had fallen deep into a recharge slumber. He prodded at the console for a few moments, then gave up.

“I understand,” Shiro murmured to it, even though it hurt to even breathe. “I want to take a nap too.” He let his eyes drift shut. Immediately, the sight of Haggar loomed over him, and his eyes snapped open. “Or not.”

Slowly, he unharnessed, and hit the manual release. The Black Lion opened, and he half-walked, half-fell from its mouth. He clenched his metal fist as tightly as he could to keep from screaming, and pressed his other hand into his side.

He probably wasn’t supposed to be bleeding purple, but it was happening anyway.

“Keith,” Shiro said into his comm, forcing himself to sound calm. “Lance. Hunk. Pidge. Allura. Is there anyone out there?”

He wished his side wasn’t throbbing so badly. He wished things could be over. He wished someone wasn’t screaming and cackling. He--

_Wait, what?_

Shiro looked around, towards the sound. Not far from him, close enough to walk to, if he could make it there, he could see a pair of huge robots. Each had blades sticking from their arms, and when they clashed sparks flew. Their footwork threw up dust, and it was hard to see more than scraps of colour -- gunmetal grey and purple, red and blue in a pattern that felt achingly familiar.

Drawing on what remained of his strength, he began to walk.

“Megatron..!” cried out one of them, and Shiro’s eyes widened. “One shall rise…” Shiro mouthed the rest of it in chorus. “And one shall fall.”

“Ah, Optimus, you never cease to be entirely predictable,” he cried. “Vehicons! Transform and rise up! Full retreat.”

The gunmetal robot transformed into a spaceship, resembling one of the medium-sized attack vessels the Galra used, and streaked off into the sky. Around him, two others followed, dodging laser fire from the ground-bound Optimus.

“Autobots… cease fire. Ratchet, we require a space bridge, and assistance moving these energon cubes back to base.”

“Wait,” Shiro called out, and nearly bent double as a cough wracked him. That sound, more than the word, caught the attention of -- Optimus? Optimus _Prime? --_ and the great robot turned towards him.

“A… human? Out here? Where did you come from?” Optimus walked towards Shiro, his huge, ground-eating stride bringing him to the damaged human.

“The wormhole… collapsed… Zarkon’s forces… need--”

[Shiro? Shiro! It’s Keith! Where are you, I’m--]

The world went white as pain overwhelmed him, and while he fell, he never seemed to hit the ground.

~ * ~

The moment the fighting stopped, Keith’s comm system came back online. With a muttered apology to his Lion, he slammed his hand against the panel. “Shiro? Shiro! It’s Keith! Where are you, I’m crash landed on some kind of desert planet.”

There was no reply, aside from the faint, metallo-organic hum of the Red Lion coming online. Keith sighed in relief, and adjusted the controls before moving forward. He wanted to run, to move swiftly, but he needed patience. To focus. It’s what Shiro would want, not headlong, panicked flight or harm to befall others.

He could see the other robots, the ones who hadn’t transformed and flown off, standing around, though their voices weren’t loud enough for him to hear -- or, perhaps, their pilots were speaking over the comms.

Either way, something was tugging him towards this direction, and that meant walking through a battlefield.

As Keith approached, he thought he could see what they had been fighting over: a pile of glowing, blue cubes, some of them scattered and leaking into the scrubland of the desert. Two robots, one slender and blue, highlighted with pink in a way that made Keith immediately think of Allura, the other yellow with black highlights, and a thicker, bulkier build, were picking them up, sorting them, organizing them.

Nearby, a green, swirling portal opened, and Keith recognized it instantly as the same portal Allura had urged them through.

“Arcee, Bumblebee, it seems we have a human casualty of our battle.” Keith turned, and saw a great, blue and red robot striding over to them, carrying something in his hand. His voice, to the Red Paladin, felt familiar and soothing at the same time, and oddly, reminded him of Shiro, despite them sounding nothing alike.

 _I need to find Shiro, I need to--_ The sensors of the Red Lion lit up, and focused on the robot’s hands. Supine, bleeding, perhaps even broken, was his leader and friend, carefully cradled between huge fingers.

“I thought Ratchet scanned the area as clear. Who’s out in the desert at this time of night?” said the blue robot, and Keith registered, distantly, that it had a woman’s voice.

“I do not know, but he must come with us so that he might be treated before he wakes. Bulkhead will recover the energon cubes, but we must be on our way. A life hangs in the balance.”

 _No, they can’t take him, I’ll never find him if they disappear through a wormhole._ Without thinking, Keith cried, “Wait!”

His Lion roared, echoing the word through the sound, and as one, all three bots turned towards him.

“Is that a beastformer?” Arcee asked, peering at it. “Cheetor, is that you? Tigatron?”

The yellow bot made a series of noises, and finished with a rude-sounding blurt.

“Bumblebee is correct, this is not a standard bot at all. If it’s one of Soundwave’s drones, it could be an attempt to find our base.”

Immediately, Arcee pointed both blasters at Keith and he felt the Red Lion surge around him. He could fight them, fly circles around them… and lose Shiro. Not an option.

“I’m not a… whatever that is. Just, don’t fire. I’m coming out.” Keith hit the release, and his Lion deposited him on the ground, then went into standby.

“...another human?” Arcee made a face, and when he had time, Keith would be amazed by how expressive lipless, metallic features could be. “M.E.C.H?”

“No, a Lion. Look, my name is Keith. I’m not sure where I am or what’s going on, but I know you have my leader. He was injured in battle. He needs help. Please, we’ll be your prisoners, so long as you can save him.”

“We do not take human prisoners, Keith,” the red and blue bot said. “And we will save your friend. Ratchet-- yes, I know the ground bridge is open. We require your vehicle mode to transport an injured human.”

“There should have been something else, too. A… a vehicle, like mine, but bigger, and black. With wings. We can’t leave the Lions behind. If Zarkon finds it…”

“I do not know this Zarkon, but we will look. Will you come with me to search?”

Keith took a sharp breath. “I will. As soon as Shiro is safe.”

Before the bot could answer, Keith heard the sound of sirens, and turned towards it. From the portal came an orange and white ambulance, lights flashing.

“Well, don’t stand around, load the human in,” came a voice from the ambulance, its headlights brightening and dimming with each word.

“...woah,” Keith said. “Is that--”

“This is Ratchet, our medic, and scientist. Shiro is in good hands.” The ambulance’s doors opened, and the big bot gently placed Shiro inside. Immediately, Ratchet closed his doors and executed a perfect three point turn to drive back into the portal.

“Optimus, Bee and I can supervise while Bulkhead gets the cubes loaded. Go on, but be careful.”

“You as well, Arcee. The Decepticons may return. I was surprised not to see Starscream with the vehicons.” The great bot offered Keith his hand, palm up. “My name is Optimus Prime, and I am the leader of the Autobots. I am not familiar with your form of dress.”

“I’m a paladin… of Voltron.”

“I do not know that term, and the word ‘paladin’ does not mean the same thing on my homeworld of Cybertron as I suspect it does on yours.” Carefully, Optimus lifted Keith and began to walk. Keith clung to one of his fingers, and looked around, using his helmet to scan.

“I don’t understand, I didn’t think there were metallic aliens. How did you avoid Zarkon?”

“Zarkon is not known to us, and we have travelled much of the known universe. We have been at war for a very long time, Keith. Longer than perhaps you can even understand.”

“Longer than ten thousand years?”

“Much, much longer. Closer to four million.”

Keith’s head spun. “I don’t even… how old are you?”

“A little older than four million years, give or take.” Light emitted from Optimus’ chestplate, like searching headlights. “There. Is that what you’re looking for?”

Keith’s display beeped at the same time. “Yes, bring me to it.”

The Black Lion was lying on its side, mouth open, and lights all extinguished. For a moment, Keith feared it had been damaged beyond repair, that it was dead, and Voltron gone. Fear, and doubt, swelled up inside him as Optimus stepped closer.

“Ratchet will be able to repair this vehicle, I think. He’s very talented.”

“I don’t know if you can understand it, but it’s not just a machine. Our Lions are our partners. They’re a part of us. If we lose one of them, Shiro _or_ the Black Lion…”

“I do understand, but we cannot stay out here. Just a moment.” Optimus set Keith down, and moved to pick up the Black Lion. It was a third of the great robot’s size, a mass that consisted of not only the head, but the torso of Voltron.

_I wonder if that’s how he’ll carry it, and if I’ll need to walk. Not that it’s a priority, but--_

Optimus’ form twisted around, angling crazily for a moment in a maneuver that reminded him of Lance’s first attempts at piloting the Blue Lion. Then, the great bot settled into the shape of a large transport truck, and the Black Lion was nowhere to be seen.

“I have placed your vehicle inside my trailer,” Optimus voice sounded out all around Keith. “Please, enter.” He opened a door.

 _This is all a dream,_ Keith thought shakily as he climbed up inside. _I’ll wake up, and go back to blowing up alien spaceships and eating green goo for breakfast._

Inside, Optimus resembled the Red Lion’s control panels more than he did a normal truck. There were glowing displays and scanners, and one of them marked the presence of his allies, another of energy nearby. In the middle of the display was a symbol, and Keith reached out to touch it, curious.

[Please, do not interfere with my systems,] Optimus said, and Keith drew his hand back. [We must travel through the ground bridge and return to base.]

“Sorry,” Keith muttered. “You’ll need to drop me off with my Lion, and I’ll follow you through.”

[Very well,] Optimus said. [Please, put on your safety belt. Your protection is our first priority.]

Laughter, hysterical and half-crazed, threatened to bubble up from Keith, but he managed without comment to pull the shoulder strap around, and fastened himself inside.

~ * ~

“Collision! Collision!”

Allura ground her teeth together as she fought to keep the Castle stable. Their exit from the wormhole had been difficult, a tumble through space, struck by all kinds of debris as they exited directly into an asteroid belt. Realspace had seen heavy damage before she’d wrested control back, and now they were rocketing through a desolate solar system, in dangerous proximity to a blue and green planet and its single, white moon, even if the area had been entirely void of other things to hit.

Space, however, wasn’t empty.

Aside from the space probes and asteroids she’d expected, there was heavy debris, as though something had exploded in orbit. Crashing through it had badly damaged their thrusters, and it would take time to repair it, time they didn’t currently have.

“Allura!”

“I don’t see it, Coran! The sensors must be damaged!”

“I’m certain it’s there,” her companion insisted. “We’re right--”

The Castle struck empty space, and lurched violently. Coran fell, sprawled on the floor of the bridge, bleeding freely from a cut on his forehead. Allura remained standing, but her fingers were cramping from gripping at the console. Around them, lights flashed as parts of the ship went dead.

Where there had once been nothing, a massive ship appeared, grey and purple, menacing in the way that Galra ships were, but completely alien in design. Its cloaking field sputtered and failed, revealing it to Allura, just as she had been exposed to it.

“What… what is that?” she asked aloud. “Coran?”

“I’m… I’m here, Princess, just let me…” He managed to find a handkerchief and tied it around his wound. “There.” He pushed himself upwards, and stared at the display. “I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years.”

“Neither have I, but now it knows we’re here.” Allura forced herself to focus. “We need to set down, there, on this planet’s moon. We can make repairs, and hope they don’t have a force to send for us.”

“...and if they do?”

“Then it’s been a pleasure serving with you.”

~ * ~

“Hello, Griffon Rock Emergency Dispatch, how can I help you?” Twelve year old Cody Burns tugged up the sleeves of his oversized jacket and listened intently to the voice on the other side of his commlink. “Yes sir, we’ll get right on it.”

“What is it this time, Cody? Did the mayor light his toupee on fire?”

Cody looked over at the firetruck, and his older brother, Kade, the latter of whom chuckled and continued to polish his partner’s chrome parts.

“No, a meteor hit the water off the coast,” Cody replied. “No damage, but there are waves swamping the beach, and you know how _that_ gets.”

“It gets messy,” the firetruck said. “Rescue Bots… roll to the rescue!”

“I hope no one expects me to go in the water,” called the helicopter. “Last time, I was clearing seaweed out of my cockpit for a week. Even Dani didn’t want to fly, but she wouldn’t watch tv with me either.”

“Blades, for once, could you not complain?” the firetruck grumbled, opening a door. “Come on, Kade. Bathtime’s over.”

“Sure thing, Your Heatwaveness,” Kade muttered, climbing inside and buckling in. Heatwave closed his door and raced out into the street, with Blades flying overhead, outstripping his pace and scouting ahead.

[Cody, you said that the meteor fell in the ocean?] said Blades’ pilot, Dani Burns. Cody’s older sister checked her instruments, and let her partner guide them out. [Because I see a lot of damage along Old Canyon Road. Specifically, that something hit the canyon.]

[That’s what the report said,] Cody affirmed. [Let me get up to the Command Centre and I’ll take a look.]

[Team, we have a report of damaged trees and grass near the park, but there’s no sign of what caused it,] cut in Police Chief Charlie Burns. [Graham, I want you and Boulder to go take a look. Chase and I will direct traffic away, in case whatever caused this comes back.]

“We’ll have to split up,” Kade said. “Heatwave and I will head to the beach, Dani and Blades will go check out the canyon. Code, think you can keep track of all that?”

[On it, Kade,] Cody promised. [Be careful, all of you.]

“Always, little bro, always,” Kade promised.

[I’m surprised your tongue doesn’t turn green when you do that,] Heatwave muttered, keeping the transmission private.

“I’m surprised you can move with all that cynicism rusting up your gears,” Kade replied. “Besides, my ‘partner’ is supposed to be looking out for me.”

[If I see him, I’ll buzz his comm,] Heatwave shot back, and continued driving through Griffin Rock’s busy streets. Even as they sped past familiar faces, Heatwave was calculating, watching to see if _this_ human would dart out in front of them or _that_ one would tumble from a precarious position and require rescue.

All was quiet, fortunately, for the next few minutes.

As they reached the dockside, Heatwave could see Cody was right. The docks were swamped, and a number of the crates were drifting loose. Immediately, Heatwave transformed, and began scooping the crates up and placing them out of harm’s way, all the while watching the ocean. The waves were subsiding, and fortunately or not, at two hours past sunset, there weren’t many people around.

“Ever see anything like this?” Kade asked as Heatwave worked. “This seems weird, even for Griffon Rock.”

“No, and you could help, you know.”

“You didn’t let me out.”

“I did--” Heatwave could feel the familiar, warm presence of his partner inside him, gripping at his steering wheel without concern for propriety, and gritted his denta. “You could have reminded me before we were almost done.”

“And interrupt your brooding? I don’t think so.” Kade glanced around. “So, you’ve never seen anything like this… but what about _that.”_ He pointed, and Heatwave spun, pointing both high-pressure hoses at…

“Is that a… cat?”

“It’s a lot bigger than a cat,” Kade said, leaning forward. “Also, cats don’t usually come in blue.”

[Or metal,] Heatwave said, switching back to internal communications, and activated his visor. [What do we do, talk to it? Bribe it with giant mice?]

“Switch me to externals,” Kade said, and snagged Heatwave’s radio. “Unidentified falling object, this is Emergency Rescue Worker Kade Burns of Griffon Rock. Everything’s going to be okay, just stay calm and stay put.”

[Brilliant.]

“Eat me.”

[I’d never get the taste out of my mouth.]

“Gross, Heatwave.”

[Not as gross as--]

“Oh man, are you a giant robot?” sounded a voice from the cat-bot. “Cool! I love giant robots! I make up one fifth of one. The most handsome fifth, if I must say so.”

“Get a load of this guy,” Kade muttered. “I’m _inside_ the giant robot. I’m coming out.”

[Yes, Kade, I’ll let you out,] Heatwave replied sarcastically, and transformed back into a firetruck, then opened his door for his partner. Kade unbuckled and climbed out, approaching carefully.

“Cool, I can do that too,” said the cat-bot. “Kinda.” It opened its mouth, and a figure slipped from inside it, small, about the side of…

“Wait, you’re a human?” Kade said, blinking. “Are you from the mainland? Where’d you get a robot like this? Did--” He bit back his next question.

“Damn right I’m a human,” the figure said and pulled off their helmet, revealing light brown skin, dark eyes, and messy, dark-brown hair. “Oh my god, are we on Earth? Did we get back home? Did--” He looked up at the sky, scanning it as his features melted from a smile into something far more worried. “...did you find anyone else?”

“Like you? No, but we have a few other calls my rescue team is taking care of.”

Heatwave’s engine made a noise, not unlike clearing a throat.

“Shut up, Heatwave,” Kade breathed through a gritted smile. “Witness.”

“Is your robot sassing you? Mine doesn’t exactly do that. The Blue Lion and I? Totally synched.” The grin was back, but something about it felt as false as Kade’s smile. “Oh, where are my manners, my name is Lance McClain, and I’m the Blue Paladin, and this is my Lion.” He put a hand on the robo-cat’s front limb. “We’re a leg.”

“What are you, like, Voltron or something?” Kade asked and Lance stared at him.

“How did you--”

“What’s Voltron?”

Both humans turned to look at the firetruck, who emitted a short, sharp hiss of air. “Oh, come on, he’d figured it out.”

“You’re the one who always freaks out about not blowing your cover!” Kade spun. “Now you’re blowing it for everyone else?”

“He came here in a giant cat robot, who’s going to believe him?” Heatwave transformed back. “Look -- Lance, wasn’t it? -- if you cooperate we can find your friends and give you somewhere to shelter. All you have to do is not mention the talking giant robot part. Deal?”

Lance’s eyes lit up. “Do I get to ride in the talking firetruck?”

Heatwave made a grinding sound in annoyance. “Don’t push your luck, human.”

“Ooh, demoted,” Lance said. “Yeah, deal. This is incredible.” Lance looked him up and down, and his gaze fell to the insignia on Heatwave’s chestplate. “Hey, weird question… do you know Optimus Prime?”

~ * ~

Pidge sincerely wished they would just go away.

The Green Lion’s engines were quiet as it stayed crouched inside a haphazard shelter of broken trees and fallen rocks, occasionally flashing up the status of the cloaking field that surrounded and sheltered it from view.

A mere hundred feet from their hiding spot, one human man, dressed in half a suit and a hardhat wandered around, looking at an outdated, primitive tablet and talking to himself.

_Or maybe he’s talking to his robot. I can’t judge, I talk to one too._

The robot had transformed into something humanoid: it was large and green, with treads along both shoulders and weird, scoop feet that seemed to step with delicate care around the flowers her descent hadn’t destroyed. Oddly, and it was possible she was hallucinating or projecting, he had a kindly, smiling face.

“The good news is, aside from the trees and grass, nothing’s damaged. The swingsets are safe, the slide, the see-saws. Everything looks good, buddy,” the human said. “We can cordon this area off and take care of it in the morning.”

“But Graham, what about the trees?” the robot asked, and Pidge was surprised by how… human it sounded. Attack drones could sound pretty good, nothing like old movies or ancient technology, but it wasn’t just the sound. It was the perfect pitch of concern for living things that, usually speaking, only other living things had.

_On the other hand, Zarkon’s a living thing, and he doesn’t care at all about anyone but himself and his goals._

“There’s nothing we can really do for most of them,” Graham said, and turned, placing a hand on the robot’s leg to comfort it. “We’ll need to clear the fallen ones and see them disposed of safely, then replant new ones. The grass too, all this will need to be smoothed out.”

“It’s so disappointing,” the robot sighed. “But if there’s nothing more we can do…”

“I’m afraid not, Boulder, but nature finds a way,” Graham said. “So let’s get--”

 _No… no!_ Pidge swore as the display that had been growing steadily more red started to blink and then turn off, proclaiming that it needed a twelve hour recharge cycle to re-engage the cloaking field. “Quiznak.”

Both human and robot turned towards the Lion, and the robot’s face lit up. “It’s a Mister Petty-Paws! And this one _is_ my size!”

“No kidnapping lions,” Graham warned. “Even if they are… a robot cat. Hello? Are you hurt? Did Optimus send you?”

 _What’s an Optimus?_ Pidge wondered, and engaged the external speakers. “I am… a hallucination. I’m not really here. Pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain.”

“It’s alright, we know giant robots.” Graham stepped closer. “My name is Graham Burns, I’m an engineer and part of the Emergency Rescue Team of Griffon Rock. Are you injured? Can you get out of your vehicle?”

 _Think, Katie, think,_ Pidge urged herself. “No, I’m not injured, but I’m not comfortable getting out of my vehicle. Just… leave me be.”

“...but if you stay there, we can’t clear out the trees,” Boulder said, and walked forward. The human, Graham, stood still, waiting for his robot to move around him, unconcerned by the possibility that he could be crushed by one small misstep. The robot came within touching distance, and Pidge reached for the weapon controls. A large, grey and green hand extended towards them. “Here, kitty kitty.”

“Don’t--” The Green Lion’s eyes lit up, and it raised its head, rubbing into the great hand that scritched around its metal ruff. “Ahh! How did you do that?”

“I’m just being friendly,” Boulder said reassuringly. “Won’t you come out, introduce yourselves?”

“...fine, but no funny business,” Pidge said, and unbuckled her harness. She sent a command to the Green Lion and it opened its mouth obligingly, and rather than getting down on the ground, she swung onto the robot's hand, and put her hands on her slight hips. “My name’s… Katie. Holt. Katie Holt. My friends call me Pidge.”

“We’ll call you whatever you like, Katie,” Graham said. “This is my partner, Boulder. Sorry, he likes cats.”

“She’s not a cat, she’s a _Lion._ The Green Lion, actually.” Pidge peers up at him. “Why do you care so much about plants, anyway? Aren’t you a robot?”

“Of course, but Earth has such a wide variety of living organisms. Not just plants, but animals. Birds, bugs, fungus…” Boulder continued on happily, even as Pidge felt like she’d been kicked in the chest.

“What is it?” Graham asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re… we’re on Earth,” Pidge said numbly. “We’re on _Earth.”_

~ * ~

[Have I mentioned how much I _hate_ flying?] Blades wailed as he bobbed in the air. Dani tried not to roll her eyes as she scaled down the rope to the ledge. The twisted gold and white machine was lodged against the canyon face, and it seemed like only luck was keeping it -- and the pilot -- from plunging down into the river below.

 _I hope whoever’s in there is still alive,_ Dani thought as she moved, slow and careful. “Blades, I know, but this is important. We need to keep it steady.”

[If I don’t complain, I’ll just think about it more. Do you know who that is? He looks like Ravage. Or maybe Ravage looks like him? I don’t know, beastformers all kind of look the same to me.]

“Blades, that’s--” _Is it racist? What do_ I _know about ‘beastformers’?_ “Not helpful, right now.”

[Sorry, Dani. Oh! Good news, it’s not really, awfully windy up here. Any more.]

“Good, Blades. Why don’t you tell me about what was on Cupcake Hoarders last night?” it wasn’t fair, not entirely, to tune her partner out, but talking about reality tv helped calm the copter-bot, and a calm copter-bot was a helpful one.

Dani tapped her foot against the ledge, easing her weight onto it with care before making her way to the wreck. From the air, it had looked worse than it was. There was no significant external damage, no dented-in doors or smashed windows. _Just a… very odd design. Is that a cat? Blades will be so excited._ Carefully, the EMT climbed up the side of the fallen vehicle, and started searching for any kind of door. “Here, kitty kitty,” she murmured to herself. “I just want to see what’s wrong. I’m only here to help.”

[Dani? I don’t think it can hear you,] Blades said. [Though I do see some lights turning on. Maybe it’s not broken?]

“What lights? I don’t see any--” The cat’s mouth opened, revealing a passage inside. “Woah. Did you see that?”

[I did. Now I think it’s haunted.]

“It’s not haunted,” Dani said, and got on her hands and knees, and crawled inside, looking for broken bits of metal or glass. _Any EMT knows half the danger of a rescue is carelessness._ The inside of the Lion reminded her of Blades’ cockpit: the glowing displays and holographic displays were similar to the instruments she used to monitor his altitude, though it lacked the Rescue Bot insignia. Instead, there was a V symbol with spikes coming from either side of it.

Dani touched the symbol, and nothing happened.

She turned towards the unconscious figure in the cockpit, and frowned. The pilot was wearing some kind of full body suit that fit around an ample form. Dani hurried over, and tugged the helmet off. He was younger than she was, probably by a handful of years, and his red-brown face was slack. As she checked for head injuries, she found a bandana tied around brown hair, and a steady, slow pulse.

“Blades, can you hear me?” Dani said into her comm. “One pilot, unconscious, and he’s a larger patient. Doesn’t look like he’s injured but I need to move him quickly before things collapse. Be ready to take us up.”

[How big is big? Like Mister Harrison big?]

“I think he’s about as tall as dad, and not quite as big around as Mister Harrison. This is why I practice all those lifts.” Dani unbuckled the pilot and leaned in to drape him across her shoulder, and lifted with her legs. It took her a moment to balance, and as she turned, her hip brushed against the console.

[ _I_ thought it was because you liked spinning Kade around on your-- woah!]

“Blades, what is--”

Visions flashed before her eyes. Ships, thousands of them, poised to attack a world filled with flowers and gleaming cities. A figure, purple and draped in darkness, eyes red with hate. Five becoming one. A figure that stands above all, a champion of a million worlds.

 _You are not suited,_ sounded a voice in her head. _Not unworthy, merely unsuited. Perhaps one of the others. Blue will like you, when you meet. For now, protect this one. He is beloved._

“Oh-okay,” Dani uttered aloud, as the vision faded. “I’m a rescue worker. It’s my job.”

There was no reply, and Dani forced herself to focus on Blades’ frightened pleas for an answer as she made her way out of the vehicle, and back to the harness.


	2. Chapter 2

“What happened to my ship?!” Megatron bellowed, and Starscream -- along with every vehicon in the nearby vicinity -- cringed away from him.

“It occurred so suddenly, Lord Megatron,” Starscream began. “We were holding formation and waiting for your signal--” Megatron snarled, but took a half-step back. “A ship appeared from nowhere and rammed into us! I was able to keep us in orbit, but the cloaking field was damaged. I made it first priority to repair it.”

“Soundwave,” Megatron said to the communications officer, his tone weary, but as always, edged with violence. “Is this true?”

The tall, dark purple bot didn’t reply verbally, but instead his visor fizzed briefly, and then showed a recording of the events, starting with a large, white ship appearing from a space bridge portal and hurtling towards them at great, uncontrolled speed, striking the remains of the Decepticon space bridge, and then clipping into the Nemesis. The flagship had listed badly, and it recorded Starscream’s panicked cries and sure movements as he kept the Nemesis from simply falling out of orbit. The final recording showed the white ship heading for Earth’s moon, and disappearing around the far side.

Megatron turned his baleful gaze towards Starscream, who managed a slight, frightened chuckle, and spread his long, slender fingers. “Find out what that was. It went to the moon. It’s likely still there.”

“My first priority--”

“Was saving your own finish, as usual. Now you will take a team out there and investigate the source of this attack. Am I clear, Starscream?”

“P-perfectly, Lord Megatron,” Starscream said, bowing and scraping, even as he beat a hasty retreat. Once he was gone, Megatron looked to Soundwave.

“Is he responsible for this?”

Soundwave flashed up a red circle with a bar through it on his visor, and the leader of the Decepticons vented heavily.

“If Starscream had arrived, we would have killed Optimus and his wretched Autobots,” Megatron said. “Instead we were distracted by this… ship. Could they be allies? Humans, using Cybertronian designs? I would enjoy seeing Optimus being arrested by one of his own allies for breaking the Tyrest Accord.”

Another negative symbol flashed up on Soundwave’s visor, and an alien voice said, “Playing recording.”

Megatron’s optics widened as he watched Soundwave’s recording reverse itself rapidly, to before the ship exited the space bridge. Moments before, five metal objects hurtled through, flying towards the organic planet below.

“Freeze image,” he ordered, and Soundwave did so. “Enhance.”

The communications officer did as he was told, and the images resolved. Soundwave captured it, and immediately ran a database scan. Briefly, an image of his own cassette, Ravage, flashed up, and displayed a 41% match, then continued to indicate no conclusive identity.

“Interesting,” Megatron murmured. “Soundwave, project trajectories for those objects. I want to know where they went.”

This time, the image Soundwave flashed up was that of a glowing green checkmark.

~ * ~

The last time Shiro had woken up on a table, he’d been strapped down, restrained for his own good and the good of others. He had vague, terrible memories of being on a table before, taken apart, put back together. An icy, crawling sensation that his arm wasn’t the only thing he had lost, just the most obvious.

This time, he wasn’t tied down, and the pain was distant, like an old memory. Nonetheless, he tensed, ready to fight off whomever was there.

“Ratchet, I think he’s waking up.” He didn’t recognize the voice, but he did, in a very broad sense, recognize the accent.

 _Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought,_ Shiro thought, and opened his eyes. A figure was standing over him, smaller and slighter than even Pidge, with hair that spiked up and square glasses. Their eyes widened, and then they grinned.

“Ratchet! He’s awake!”

“Yes, Raf, I can see that. The monitors picked up the increase in his brain activity. Now, speak to your fellow human, I’m busy.”

“Where… am I?” Shiro asked, and looked around. Not far from where he was lying, he saw a hulking, orange and white figure standing at a console, tapping away at it. _Look up,_ he reminded himself, and did. The ceiling was high, and plain, with a handful of metal bars across the top. He shivered, and realized they had taken his armour, and the clothes underneath. Shiro sat up abruptly. “What did you do to me?”

“Woah, careful,” Raf said. “We fixed you. Well, Ratchet fixed you, but Jack’s mom helped? I mean, she’s a nurse but she has way smaller hands, and Ratchet’s a medic and a _genius_ but he doesn’t know that much about how to fix _humans_ so--”

“Where’s my… where are the others?” Shiro leaned forward, winced as his side pulled, and touched his hand to his head. His… _wait…_ “Where’s my arm?”

“Your prosthetic required extensive repair, and study,” the robot -- Ratchet -- said. “It will be returned to you soon. As for your outer covering, your shell was damaged in battle, and I am also repairing it. Your clothes were damaged, but I will not repair them. Clothing will be provided to you by Agent Fowler. Autobots do not concern themselves with such things.”

“Except blankets,” Raf whispered. “Ratchet understands blankets just fine.”

“If you aren’t damaged, get off my table, I need it,” Ratchet interjected crisply. “You can gossip anywhere in the base that isn’t here.”

“Come on, we have a robe for you.” Raf climbed down from the bench, and gestured Shiro over. Considering his options, he wrapped the sheet around his waist, and followed. His balance felt off without his right arm, and he nearly stumbled over the trailing cloth before he made it to where Raf was holding it out for him.

“Look... look away,” Shiro said, and Raf turned around. The process of pulling on the robe, dropping the sheet, and then tying it one-handed was slow, but his training hadn’t been for nothing. When his arm stump had settled into the mostly empty sleeve, he bent and picked up the sheet again. “Where should I bring this?”

“The-- oh! This way.” Raf gestured. “Your friend is awake too. Miko’s pestering him about your bots. Lions, he called them? They’re really cool.”

“They _are_ pretty cool,” Shiro said, then his eyes widened. “Which friend?”

“He said his name was Keith,” Raf replied. “He was really worried about you, but we told him you were going to be fine.”

“I am, thanks to Ratchet, and I suppose to you,” Shiro said, and braced himself. “Did you, did either of you, see anything… unusual?”

“Not really, no,” Raf said, considering. “I mean, we don’t know you, and you did have that arm. I guess that’s pretty unusual.”

Shiro resisted the urge to laugh. “Yes, it’s pretty unusual. I’d like to have it back soon.”

“You will, Ratchet’s just making sure it’ll work properly.” Raf caught his hand, and tugged him up a set of stairs, ones that looked more at home in a sewer maintenance hatch than a base for advanced robots, and towards an ugly yellow couch.

Keith turned immediately, and his expression brightened. “Shiro! Should you be walking?”

“I’m fine, I’m just… armless.”

“But not _completely_ armless, amiright?” On the couch was a Japanese girl, her hair highlighted with bright pink and she bounced, excited. “Hi, you must be Shiro! I’m Miko, Miko Nakamura. _Ogenkidesuka?”_

“Uh. Hi, Miko,” Shiro said, and smiled slightly. “Nice to… meet you.”

“Spoil-sport,” Miko muttered. “Anyway, Keith told us you’re a _Paladin_ , that’s so _cool._ Like a warrior, right?”

“Very much so. Though I’m not sure how much Keith told you, or how much he _should_ have told you.”

Keith stood, and helped guide Shiro to the couch. “They’re friends with giant, transforming robots, Shiro. I don’t think we should hesitate to trust them. They promised to look for the others, but they’re limited by range.”

“And secrecy,” Raf added. “No one knows they’re transforming robots. Well, we do, and Jack and his mom. And Agent Fowler.”

“He’s bringing me clothes,” Shiro muttered, and leaned back. “Were you hurt, Keith?”

“Only my pride, mostly,” Keith said. “Shiro, Zarkon said--”

He shook his head slightly. “Later. Right now, we need to focus on finding the others, especially Allura. If something happened to her, we won’t be able to go back.”

“I don’t think Allura was responsible for what happened,” Keith said. “I told the others, and they said we travelled through a space bridge.”

“We don’t _have_ space bridges.”

“Hence the problem.” Keith gestured. “But they do. They know what they do and how they function.”

“ _Tech_ nically, the ‘Cons are the ones with the space bridge. Which we totally busted and it was mega cool!” Shiro stared at Miko in vague horror. “...but that was a long time ago, way before you got here. Trust me, the other choice was zombie robots. You do not want zombie robots.”

“Wonderful,” Shiro murmured. “So… who are you? Operators? Scientists?”

“Man, I don’t even like high school,” Miko said. “We’re friends! Partners. Me ‘n Bulk are like this.” She crossed her fingers together. “Wheeljack’s great too, though he doesn’t usually stick around.”

“Bumblebee is my best friend,” Raf added. “Though I work with Ratchet too. He teaches me science, Bee listens to me, and I can translate for him.”

“There are others, too. Arcee, and their leader, Optimus Prime,” Keith finished. “And they have enemies who use dark energy to empower them, like Zarkon and Haggar.”

“I don’t think Dark Energon is exactly the same, but it’s all the same idea,” Miko said. “It’s science stuff. I just like to smash things.”

“You don’t smash anything,” Keith muttered. “You’re like a twig.”

“Wanna bet?” Miko said, and balled her hands into fists. Keith copied the motion.

 _And I thought he and Lance were bad,_ Shiro thought. “That’s enough, you two, there’s no need to--” _Optimus. Ratchet._ “Those… ‘Cons. Who leads them?”

“The Decepticons?” Raf asked, peering up at him. “Well, Megatron, of course.”

“And… and Starscream,” Shiro murmured. “Soundwave. Shockwave. Astrotrain and Blitzwing. Skywarp and Thundercracker.”

“Uh, some of those are right, but others are way wrong,” Miko said. “You okay there? Do you need to see Ratchet again?”

“Keith… Keith, I know who they are,” Shiro said, feeling numb. “They’re _Transformers.”_

~ * ~

“Son, I’ve had about three hours of sleep between the calls coming in, maybe you’d better explain it again. Simply, this time.”

“The people who fell out of the sky are humans, but they aren’t humans from _this_ Earth,” Kade explained, trying to hold back the excitement from his voice. “They’re from another world, maybe from fiction. They’re Paladins, defenders of the universe against the evil alien Zarkon and his forces of darkness. Together, they form a giant robot called Voltron.”

“Alright,” Chief Burns said, and rubbed at his eyes. “And -- Lance, was it? -- you said--”

“The transforming robots you have, they’re Autobots. Probably part of some toy set or another, but I recognize the insignia. My older sisters used to watch Transformers _all_ the time. They loved it, even the cheese. Optimus Prime, Megatron, combiners, dinobots… one shall rise, one shall fall. ‘Til all are one. You shall light our darkest hour. All the good stuff.”

“If there was a show about giant transforming robots, I’d know about it,” Kade insisted. “But I know Voltron.”

“No one had heard of Voltron on Earth until the Galra started looking for it,” Lance said, equally certain. “But there are thousands of Transformers toys.”

“I don’t think it matters which one is the real one and which one was the old cartoon, guys,” Graham said, and yawned. “What matters is right now, we have two different kinds of giant robots and one unconscious pilot we can’t take to a hospital in case he pings something in the system.”

“He should be okay,” Dani said. “I’ve done everything I can here, and I even borrowed some tech from Doc Greene. No weird nanites, no doppelganger, no gremlins--”

“That still wasn’t funny.”

“I know, Kade, you’ve said that a dozen times,” Dani continued. “He just needs to rest and recover. His Lion is more damaged, but even then I think it’s just… resting.”

“It’s a robot, how could you know that?”

Dani bit at her lip, and looked away. “Just a feeling, that’s all.”

“She’s right,” Pidge put in. “The Lions are amazingly resilient, and they usually repair themselves. Allura said they draw energy -- quintessence -- from us, so probably, once Hunk feels better, the Lion will repair itself.”

“That seems dangerous, considering you aren’t much older than my youngest,” Chief Burns said, frowning. “What if something happened to you? What if you were crippled, or killed?”

“...then the Lion would go dormant until they found a new Paladin,” Pidge said. “What would you do if something happened to one of your kids? If they were crippled or killed during a rescue? What would they do if something happened to you?”

Chief Burns looked very sour, but said as calmly as he could, “I would be extremely upset, and sad, but I would carry on because Griffon Rock needs me. Needs us.”

“Then that’s what we’d do, because the universe needs _us,”_ Pidge said. “If I lost Hunk, or Shiro, or any of the others, I’d be devastated… but that wouldn’t stop me from finding my father and brother. They were abducted, by aliens. Evil aliens. I’d stop at nothing to get them back, including being launched into an alternate reality where my life’s story is a cartoon series designed to sell toys.”

“...has anyone ever told you you’re really intense?” Kade asked, and bit into his doughnut. “You’re like Heatwave but packed into a way smaller bot. Person. Whatever.” Pidge scowled at him. “What? Heatwave’s my partner, I like him. It’s a compliment. Doughnut?”

“Yes,” Pidge said, and snatched one from the box. “Refined sugars. Wonderful. I’ve missed you.”

“Are you sure you should be getting all worked up before bed?” Lance asked, and reached in for the pastry. Pidge snapped her teeth at him, and held it away from him. “Okay, geez.”

“If you take this I will punch your face,” Pidge said, and bit into it.

“Okay,” Chief Burns said. “Now that we have all of that sorted out, I’m having the bots contact Optimus. It usually takes a while for them to get back to us, so in the meantime, we’ll monitor Hunk’s health and if he seems to worsen, or his coma lasts much longer, we’re taking him to the hospital anyway. Cover or not, I won’t allow anyone to be hurt because I neglected them. You can either stay in the bunker with your Lions or you can sleep upstairs, but regardless, we’ll lend you clothes to wear, and you can use our facilities to clean up. Pidge, you’re of a size with Cody and Frankie, whichever one you feel comfortable asking for clothes.”

“Shapeless, anonymous clothing that makes me look like a boy? Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Did you have to pretend to be a boy to go to _school?”_ Dani asked, brow furrowing in anger. “Is the alternate future sexist or what?”

“No,” Pidge said. “Plenty of girls become pilots or engineers or mechanics. But I kept asking questions about my family’s disappearance and they banned me from the Academy. I had to join under an assumed name, and I figured it would throw them off.”

“So long as it isn’t discrimination,” Dani said, and nodded. Pidge rolled her eyes, just a little.

“Lance, you and Graham have about the same build, but I don’t know if he owns more casual clothing.”

“I do, Dad,” Graham said. “I just try to look professional, but this is my only tie.”

“That’s why I never wear ties,” Kade said. “T-shirt and jeans for me, all the time.”

“Also, because your legs will melt off under your fireman’s slacks,” Dani pointed out, and Kade scowled at her. “We’ll find something for Hunk, ask around town or see what we can manage from Dad’s closet. He’s not big, but he’s broad.”

“Thanks for taking us in,” Lance said. “We literally just dropped in on you and you’re doing this for us. You’re probably saving our lives.”

“You’re welcome, and I hope you can find your friends soon,” Chief Burns said, and managed a smile. “You’re part of a team, and I understand that. Not just friends, but family. Partners. We’ll be here for you until you can go home. Now, everyone, get some rest. We’ve already had one casualty to sleep.” He gestured to Cody, curled on one of the couches.

“I’ve got him, Dad,” Kade said, scooping him up carefully and securing him against his chest. “Come on, Code. Even heroes need to sleep.”

“That includes you too,” Chief Burns said, and leaned in to hug them both. “Sleep well.”

Kade nodded, and made his way to the elevator, heading upstairs.

“Blades and I can take another sweep around the island, check on any emergencies,” Dani said. “You should get some sleep.”

“And how many hours have you been awake?” Chief Burns asked, looking his daughter over. “You know I’m first dispatch.”

“Less hours than you have,” Dani reminded him. “Go to sleep. You’re not invincible.”

“Graham--”

“I can keep an eye on things, I’m used to all-nighters for homework, and my job’s not as dangerous as yours is. Go on, Dad.”

“If it makes a difference, I think you should sleep too,” Pidge said. “Shiro and Allura never get enough sleep, either.”

“And they’re your… guardians?”

“Shiro’s the leader of Voltron, and Allura’s a beautiful princess who _totally_ fell for me-- ow!” Lance clutched at his ear.

Pidge withdrew her hand. “She fell out of a stasis pod and into Lance’s arms, we were all there. She also nearly broke your arm for flirting with her. They’re basically our parental supervision. Except, you know, they’re also part of the team.”

“And who knows where you are, exactly?” Chief Burns asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No one on this planet, because we’re not from it,” Lance said, and pointed finger guns at him. “So you can’t rat us out to our parents.”

“Most of my family was abducted, and my mother probably thinks I’m still in Europe,” Pidge said. “I didn’t exactly fill her in on my plans.”

“Oh, for the love of little fishes,” Chief Burns muttered. “When you get home, _call your parents._ I can’t believe I have to say that. Yes, Dani, I see you. I’m going to bed. Fly safely, and--”

“Don’t hesitate to call, I know, Dad.” Dani leaned in to hug him, and then tapped the comm on her collar. “Okay, Blades, time to stop playing with your new friends and get to the roof.”

[They’re just sleeping,] Blades said. [They’re no fun at all. I’ll see you there.]

“Yeah, the Lions aren’t exactly alive? Well, they _sort_ of are, but not _exactly?”_ Lance frowned. “We haven’t been Paladins for long.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dani murmured, and walked off with her father to go upstairs.

“I wonder what that was about,” Pidge said, watching her curiously. “Anyway, we should probably turn in too, Lance. We’ve been going all out.”

“Sure, sure,” Lance said. “I’ll be there soon.”

Pidge nodded once, and headed off to find their loaned clothing. The Burns family lived in a firehouse, and the parts of it that weren’t dedicated to emergency equipment reminded Pidge of home. It was cluttered, but not filthy. Lived in, as her mother might say. There were pictures on the wall of the Burns’, from being just small to recent years, and the last few included the robots that lived with them now. There were soccer trophies and certificates of merit, graduation pictures and improbably large fish. There were other people that Pidge didn’t recognize, but from cheekbones and eye colour, dimpled chins and wide grins, they were family.

 _No mother, though. Weird. I wonder if he just… adopted them? Maybe not. Maybe there was a bad break up so the pictures got taken down._ Her father’s picture was still on the wall at home, Matt’s too. _Maybe Chief Burns was right. Maybe I do need to call home so my mother knows she hasn’t lost another family member with no explanation._

It’s not as though Katie Holt had a bad relationship with her mother. She’d never thought about the kind of relationship Pidge Gunderson had with any of his family members. It was simply that, from the moment that word had returned of her father and brother’s so-called deaths, she had refused to believe. She had refused to cry at their memorial service. She’d refused to be comforted by strangers or teachers or the academics who’d wanted her father to go in the first place.

Instead, she’d moved forward, clawing for every bit of information, every scrap of gossip, every promising file, knowing that the truth was out there, somewhere.

 _Okay, now_ I _am thinking in television cliches,_ Pidge thought and headed upstairs. Out in the hallway there was a laundry basket, and there were clothes inside, folded and clearly of two different sizes.

“Hey, Pidge, right? Yeah, I grabbed some stuff from Cody and Graham’s rooms, you should be able to share those around, and I found a couple of stretched out shirts that might work for your friend. No matter what, though, you can do laundry here.”

“Thanks, Kade,” Pidge said softly, and hefted the basket. “I had one question, though. You said you watched the Voltron show, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty dated now, but I did. What’s up?”

“What was I like in it?”

“Well, uh, Pidge was kind of… a midget.”

“A _midget?”_

“Yeah. Real small. They had some kind of weird super jump though. It was the eighties. It could be worse, though. Your leader, Shiro? He wasn’t the leader, he was someone else, and in the English language version, he got his name changed to Sven.”

“Why _Sven_ of all names?”

“Probably because all the characters were originally from a different show that was in Japanese, GoLion. When they translated it, they got new names, new voices and sometimes even new personalities. Hunk looks pretty much the same, but Lance looked like someone from the old Gundam series. Keith looked like a long-haired version of the main character from Speed Racer.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Pidge murmured. “How do you know so much about this anyway?”

“I’m a firefighter, we have two modes, sleeping or fighting fires… but Griffon Rock can get pretty sleepy, so I learned to find shows online that I could pause really quickly and run out the door. Or slide down the pole, in this case.”

“I guess that makes sense. Who was the old leader? Of Voltron.”

“Keith. He was the Black Lion pilot. Sven was the Blue and, uh… maybe I shouldn’t tell you this part.”

“No, what is it? It’s not like it’s a biography of our lives, considering I’m _not_ a midget. I’m just small right now.”

“Sven got bumped off in the fifth or sixth episode. Not technically dead, and he came back later. Princess Allura became the Blue Lion pilot to replace him.”

Pidge’s mouth went dry, and she wanted to shout her denial. “What…”

“It’s not going to happen,” Kade insisted. “You’re completely different people.”

The memory of Lance lying so still in Shiro’s arms as he was carried to the regeneration pod flashed through her mind, so fast and yet lingered on the bruises. “You’re right, it’s not. Thanks for the clothes, Kade. Have a good night.”

“You too, Pidge.”

She turned, and headed back to the elevator that would take her to the bunker, her mind whirling and stuttering on the same idea, over and over. _What if we lost Hunk? What if we lost Shiro? It’s happened before. It happened to Allura. She didn’t even know. She didn’t even realize. What if it happens in a place where we’re not real people? Can we even find another Paladin? Can we take someone who is real in this world and make them unreal in ours? What if--_

The soft chime of the elevator interrupted Pidge’s train of thought and she lurched out of it and into the bunker. Most of the lights were out, and those that were left on were dim, enough so that she wouldn’t stumble, but not enough to keep her awake.

 _Rescue workers think of everything, it figures._ As Pidge made her way over to the cots that had been set out, she heard a soft voice and froze.

“Yeah, bud, it’s incredible,” Lance whispered, his cot pulled up close enough that it was touching Hunk’s. “They’ve got all kinds of food here, the best kind. Doughnuts, chips, ice cream, burritos, taquitos, you name it. All the comforts of home. No green goo in sight. It’d be a shame if we had to leave before you got to try it. There’s a kitchen too, I’m pretty sure, and Dani? Great with a rescue, not so great with cooking. So you could whip up something really special to share with the people who saved you and took care of everything, even your Lion. They can’t wait to meet you.”

“Lance?” Pidge called out softly, and ignored it when Lance wiped at his eyes before looking to her. “Are you bribing Hunk with food?”

“Yeah,” he replied, equally quiet. “I am.”

“That’s pretty smart, he loves food,” Pidge said, and offered him the basket. “Almost as much as he loves invading my privacy and picking up my gadgets.”

“He’s such a good cook, it’s crazy,” Lance said, and pulled out a shirt and pyjama pants. “His family taught him, you know? His aunts and mother and grandmother. Family tradition. He wanted to open a restaurant but they wanted him to go to the stars.”

“I didn’t know that about him,” Pidge admitted, and rummaged until she found a shirt and shorts. “I was too focused on my goal.”

“If you don’t look up, you’ll never see stars,” Lance said, and pulled the blanket over his head, and rustled around as he changed.

“Lance, that was tattooed on a boob,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes, even as she copied Lance from her own cot. “It’s not that deep.”

“Maybe someday you’ll have boobs you can tattoo deep sayings on.”

“Maybe someday, you won’t be so girl crazy that you make an ass of yourself in front of every pretty girl you meet.”

“Probably not,” Lance said, and looked over at Hunk again. “You think the others are okay?”

“Yeah, I do,” Pidge said. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because they aren’t stuck sharing a big, echoey room with you.” Pidge flopped down on her cot, and Lance made a face.

“Ha ha, funny,” Lance said, and settled down, then leaned over, until his head was touching Hunk’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Pidge asked. “Is he your boyfriend? I thought you hit on girls.”

“Hunk and I have a bromance that reaches beyond the stars,” Lance said, and shifted the cot a little more. “But that’s not why. We’re not alone, any more. Not with our Lions, and the bond, so I figured… I’d keep him company. You could join us. Make this a pile.”

“You want to sleep in a pile, really?” Pidge asked. Memory filtered back, of touches between teammates, from Shiro putting his hand on people’s shoulders to reassure them to Hunk throwing his arms around his fellow Paladins and grinning. She’d never been good with touching, but as she looked at Hunk’s still face, and Lance, resting against him like he could hold back Death itself, her throat tightened. “Okay, sure, why not?”

“You don’t have to make fun of-- wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. Hang on.” Pidge pushed her cot up against Hunk’s and climbed in again, and rolled partway onto Hunk’s cot. The whole thing creaked a little, but held. “So what do we do?”

“We get comfortable, then we sleep.”

“Comfortable… got it.” Pidge shifted, and eventually, put an arm over Hunk, half hug, half pillow. A moment later, Lance’s hand brushed hers. Instinctively, she gripped it. “Whatever comes for him is going to have to go through us.”

“Yeah, it will. Goodnight, Pidge.”

“Goodnight, Lance.”

~ * ~

“Princess, the proximity sensors are detecting fighters coming around the side of the moon.”

“They’ve been doing that for hours, just often enough to set off the sensors.” Allura sighed and carefully adjusted the crystal a little further. Close to her, the mice were making adjustments to wiring. It felt as though she’d been awake for days, not hours, but there was no time to rest.

_What’s that human saying? Ah, yes. I’ll sleep when I’m dead._

“These ones are circling,” Coran said, and pulled himself out from under one of the panels. “I think they’ve gotten whatever intelligence they were looking for and now they’re coming in for the kill.”

“Can we get the ship moving?”

“No, we’ve got half the systems disconnected.”

“Can we fight back?”

“For a little while, but it will set our repairs back days, if not weeks.” Coran rubbed at his forehead, and left behind a streak of grease. There had been no time to heal the wound on his head, and when she glanced over, she could see that the handkerchief he’d used had crusted to his skin.

“Should we surrender?”

“If they’re the Galra, no,” Coran said firmly. “We escaped them once, and they won’t let us do it twice. We might be able to escape onto the lunar surface if we abandon the Castle. We can put it on lockdown.”

“How long will we be trapped here, in that case?”

“Years, probably, but the Paladins will find us before then.”

“If they’re alive,” Allura murmured. “If Shiro survives his injuries. If none of the others are wounded.”

“I suppose so,” Coran said softly. “It always comes down to this, doesn’t it? Do or die, fight or hide. Gets tiring, I think.”

“It does, but I’m not tired of being alive,” Allura replied. “And I know what choice to make. I want you to go into the teludav.”

“You-- what?”

“I said, go. Go there and hide as long as you can. Come out when you think it’s safe.”

“Princess… Allura, you can’t mean…” Coran’s face went pale, stricken. “Your father told me to watch over you! I can’t just leave you.”

“You have always taken care of me, Coran, and you always will.” Allura smiled, though there was nothing friendly about it, nothing warm or comforting. Instead, she pulled her lips back from her teeth and bared them. “You’re going to repair this Castle, make contact with the Paladins, we’ll all leave this world together, and it will _not_ be the last thing we ever do. Understand?”

Coran shook his head. “You look just like your mother when you do that, you know.”

“My mother died with her sword drawn and blooded,” Allura said softly. “And so will I, but not today.”

“May the Gods watch over you, Princess,” Coran said. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Allura nodded to him and he left, his steps hurried, as though going faster would prevent him from changing his mind. With a hand that shook, and bruised fingertips, Allura brought up the tactical display.

 _Let’s see what you have for me now, Zarkon,_ Allura thought, and watched the blips of light maneuver. _Not too many fighters, though they seem different than the ones from before. Larger, especially that one._ She tapped the display, and enhanced the image. _I don’t recognize that designation._

While the smaller fighters were all purple and black, the flight leader was grey and striped with red. The shape was different as well, as though unsuited to space flight, and far more at home elsewhere.

“Ready defenses,” Allura said, putting the matter aside. “Particle barrier status.”

“Twenty-nine percent,” the computer chimed back. “Do not advise raising.”

“Raise particle barrier,” Allura ordered. “Anti-fighter barrage in three, two--”

“Incoming transmission from enemy fighter,” the computer announced. “Do you wish to accept?”

“Why not get the taunting over with?” Allura murmured. “On screen.”

“Greetings, enemy ship,” said a voice that was both alien to Allura and had the familiar feeling of slick oil and grating nails. “My name is Air Commander Starscream of the Decepticons, and I serve Lord Megatron.” _For now,_ seemed to permeate his words. “I do not know for what purpose you have come here and attacked our ship, but I warn you that I have you entirely surrounded. The Autobots have abandoned you. Surrender, now.”

 _Well, someone likes the sound of his own voice,_ Allura thought, and stabbed the console to reply. “ _My_ name is Princess Allura, last daughter of Altea and Grand Channeler of the highest order. _I_ do not know what Autobots or Decepticons are, but I have stood for ten thousand years against murderers and tyrants, and I will never surrender to one. Come take me, if you dare.”

“What insolence is this? How _dare_ you--”

Allura cut the communication off, and smiled again. “Fight me, ‘Air Commander’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Tyrest Accord isn't actually from TF:P, it's from the IDW Transformers comics. Briefly, it's a treaty that was negotiated early in the war between Autobots and Decepticons by Chief Justice Tyrest. This treaty made it illegal for either side to sell weapons or technology to non-Cybertronians, enforceable by Tyrest himself, through his Duly Appointed Enforcer, the Ultra Magnus.
> 
> For obvious reasons, that doesn't work in this canon, but I still wanted Megatron to mention it, because he's exactly the kind of asshole who would try to get Optimus arrested for something like that.


	3. Chapter 3

“I am afraid I do not understand,” Optimus said. “Please, could you explain further, Shiro.”

Out of necessity, the meeting between Autobots and humans was down on the main floor of the base. After spending months aboard the Castle of Lions, which was as sleek, beautiful, and functional as its princess, he found the home of the Transformers to be bleak and drab.

_ They said it used to be a missile silo, and I can believe it,  _ Shiro mused.  _ I suppose to giant, transforming robots, it doesn’t much matter what the place looks like. _

“I’ll admit, I don’t either,” Keith said. “You  _ know  _ them?”

“In a sense, yes.” Shiro looked up at the large, metallic faces. “When I was a child, I used to watch a show called Transformers. It was about robot aliens who came from the planet Cybertron. Two factions, the Autobots and the Decepticons -- usually -- had been at war for millions of years, led by Optimus Prime and Megatron. Sometimes the names changed, and there was a movie where-- that’s not important. The series itself had been rebooted several times, because along with a tv show, there were also toys. A lot of toys.”

“Question,” said a large, dark green and grey ‘bot that had been introduced as Bulkhead. “What’s a ‘reboot’?”

“A reboot is like when you want to tell the same story again, but with different details,” Raf explained. “You want to reuse common elements but not every element. If you wanted continuity, then it would be a sequel.”

“What if you can’t remember all the details?” Bulkhead wondered. “What if things change even if you don’t mean for them to.”

“That’s a ‘continuity error’, Bulk,” Miko said, and Shiro glanced up. She was sitting on his shoulder, leaning into his neck. He could see the great bot’s hand half-hovering, in case he needed to catch her, but never restricting her movement. “Those happen too.”

“The point being, I think that somehow the faulty wormhole dropped us into a… fictional world. There are stories about that kind of thing. Alice in Wonderland, the Chronicles of Narnia--”

“Final Fantasy Tactics: Advanced?” Miko offered, and then scowled at those that stared at her. “What, did you think I wasn’t patient enough for RPGs?”

“I didn’t think you were patient enough for patience,” Keith muttered, and Miko hopped up.

“I’m patient enough to--”

“Miko, Keith, please,” Shiro said. “There’s no need for that. I guess the question becomes, what about us? What happened to us? Did we get brought to the same place as the others, or somewhere different?”

“I think I can answer that,” Raf said. “While you’ve been talking, I’ve been searching for information online. Actually,  _ finding  _ something was easy. Mostly I was doing the reading. It’s fascinating, and I even managed to find a good streaming site.”

“...what did you find?” Keith asked, glancing over at Shiro.

“Voltron,” Raf replied, and gestured them over. “Once Shiro started talking about the timeframe for when Transformers was released on your world, I started looking around the same time, just in case. So I got this. Wiki articles, fansites, the whole nine yards. Well, I’m sure some of it was lost because of how old it was.”

“...my hair is not that bad,” Keith said, peering. “It’s not, Shiro. I don’t have a mullet. Lance is just an idiot.”

“Of course not,” Shiro reassured him, and squinted. “That definitely looks like Hunk, and someone generous could claim that’s Pidge… not sure about Lance’s design, though. He looks shifty.”

“You’ve never seen him try to steal the last piece of toast at breakfast,” Keith pointed out. “He’s plenty shifty. That’s… definitely not Allura. For one thing, she looks human.”

“She kind of looks like Zelda,” Shiro agreed, even as longing twinged at his heart.  _ Focus.  _ “So we were fictionalized in your world. Well, a version of us was. Is there no more recent version?”

“No, Voltron looks like it had several sequels, but no reboot.” Raf frowned. “It’s a shame, it seems like it’s a good target for a reboot. A solid idea without any of the baggage from the past.”

“...better animation couldn’t hurt, either.”

“Oh, did you to watch it? I found this site where--”

“I am  _ not  _ hearing you discuss watching illegally downloaded material in  _ my  _ secret military base,” called a voice and Shiro looked up. Approaching from the elevator with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder was a dark-skinned man who reminded him a great deal of Hunk: he had a rounded, thick belly, but there was strength behind his shoulders that betrayed a military career, though at the moment, he was dressed in a grey suit with a white dress shirt, a green tie, and black dress shoes.

“Uh, no, Agent Fowler, absolutely not,” Raf said, hastily closing his laptop. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“I was able to scrounge some clothes for our guest. Well, one of ‘em. We don’t usually recruit kids into the army.” He nodded to Shiro, and looked him over. “...though that haircut’s not regulation.”

“The Alteans have a much looser idea of what haircuts are military appropriate,” Shiro said. “Thank you, sir. I greatly appreciate it.”

“It’s not something I expected to need to provide, but life is full of surprises.” Fowler moved down to the ground floor, and handed the duffel to Shiro, who nearly dropped it from the weight. “Special Agent William Fowler, at your service.”

“Come on, Shiro,” Keith said. “I’ll help you get changed.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro replied, and hefted the bag over his shoulder. Keith led him to one of the side rooms. “What do they store here?”

“Parts, mostly, because Miko and Raf don’t live here. Sometimes they’ll stay over but most of the time, they go home. To their parents.” Keith sighed. “They still go to school.  _ High  _ school, not an Academy.”

“They’re young,” Shiro said, and set the duffel down, then eased himself out of the robe, trying not to look at his stump. Immediately, Keith opened the bag, and started pulling things out of it. “Are those military fatigues?”

“I’m not sure why you expected anything different,” Keith replied. “Though you should probably wear this undershirt until you get your arm back.” He shook out the shirt with a snap and offered it to Shiro. The Black Paladin sorted through it for a moment and then pulled it over his head.

“Did you really flunk out of the Academy?”

Keith continued his search, placing a pair of lace up boots on the floor, and then found the socks that went with them. “I was kicked out, actually. Disciplinary issue.”

“Who did you get into a fight with?” Shiro asked, and leaned forward a little. Keith passed him underwear, and then a pair of battered, but clean, camouflage pants. Shiro pulled them on, slow and awkward with one hand. “I thought we’d gotten past that.”

“After you didn’t come back, they told us it was your fault. Piloting failure. You became a warning for the advanced pilot unit. Most people just used it to consider the risks, but some people wanted to be… better. Than you. Than the people you trained.”

“Keith, there was no need to--”

“You saved my life,” Keith interrupted sharply. “Did you think I was worth anything before you took me under your wing? Did you think I wasn’t failing out of classes because I couldn’t concentrate on the boring stuff long enough to get to the good parts? Did you think I wasn’t being pushed around and teased? Do you think I didn’t know that if I really did flunk out that there was nothing else for me to do once I got pushed out of the system? You  _ saved  _ me, Shiro. I couldn’t just let them talk about you like that.”

“Keith…”

“Put your socks on, I’ll tie your boots,” he said, and Shiro did. “Look, people like Lance, people who were only ever going to be Cargo-class thought you were a hero, and they were right. The people up in Fighter-class were different. Cocky, arrogant. Impatient. I used to be just like them because I  _ knew  _ I was being tutored by the best. If you were a failure, then so was I, and nothing I’d done would have mattered. So I got into that fight and I broke someone’s nose, and a few of their fingers. So I got kicked out.”

“You said you felt lost, adrift,” Shiro said softly, letting Keith’s words ring in his ears. “If you’d kept your head down a little longer, you could have graduated.”

“I never would have made it. Not without you.” Keith pulled Shiro’s laces tight and tied them twice, tucking them inside. “Done.”

“Keith, come here,” Shiro said, and when Keith stood, Shiro pulled him into a tight, one-armed hug. “You’ll always be worth something. You’ll always be worth  _ everything.  _ Anyone who says otherwise is wrong.”

Keith leaned into him and hugged back. “This is why we need you, by the way, because you always say things like this.”

“Sometimes, I get frustrated too. I’m impatient, I’m afraid. I’m afraid a lot,” Shiro admitted. “I’m afraid of what I’ve forgotten. I’m afraid that I’ll make a mistake.”

“Shiro, you’re not anything like him,” Keith promised. “You aren’t and never will be.”

“Like who?”

“I was going to say something before, but you cut me off. Shiro, when I fought Zarkon… he had the Black bayard.”

Shiro’s expression darkened, and his fingers tightened around Keith. “Well, if he killed the Black Paladin, it wouldn’t surprise me that he kept the bayard. The Alteans were fortunate to get the Lion back.”

“No, that’s not… Zarkon…  _ he  _ was the Black Paladin.”

“Allura said--”

“Allura didn’t know what happened to the Blue Paladin. Maybe she didn’t know about Zarkon either.”

“No,” Shiro said softly, even as his mind reeled. “She knows. She just didn’t tell us. She hates Zarkon, why would she protect him?”

“Or she’s protecting us,” Keith said. “If I found out something like that, I’d be worried. Do you… do you think he knew? That you’d be the new one?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro said. “There’s so much of that year that’s just darkness. They might have… done things to me, things I don’t remember. Things that are bigger than an arm.”

“But Ratchet would have found it.”

“They don’t know what counts as normal for us,” Shiro said. “Or for me, at the very least. There’s no one to really compare me to.”

“...you aren’t any kind of monster, though,” Keith said. “If I’m not, you’re not. You’re not Zarkon either. You’re a survivor and a hero.”

Shiro nodded, but didn’t reply, holding onto Keith a little longer before letting him go. “Let’s go find out what the others are doing, see if we can help.”

Keith straightened, and took the robe Shiro handed him, tucking it into the duffel bag. “Are you mad at her?”

“Allura?” Shiro asked, and closed his eyes. Expressive eyes and soft skin, a sure mouth that laughed or cried or yelled in uneven amounts. His heart clenched and twisted around words spoken and unspoken. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should hear her out,” Keith said softly. “Because if I needed you, you definitely need her.”

“I guess we weren’t very good at hiding it.” Shiro said, and stood. He tucked the undershirt in until it pulled taut against his skin. “How long have you known?”

“A while. Hunk and Pidge figured it out.” Keith hefted the duffel bag. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Lance noticed.”

“Lance can be remarkably blind at times for a sharpshooter.”

Keith rolled his eyes, and Shiro hid a smile. “ _ Tell  _ me about it.”

~ * ~

“So, what’s the intel on our guests?” Fowler asked, after Keith and Shiro had walked off. “What’s with the kid’s arm?”

“Shiro’s right arm was replaced by an alien prosthetic of non-Cybertronian design,” Ratchet said. “From what Keith has said, he was captured by aliens from their reality called Galra and held for a year before he escaped. This modification was part of it. It’s a complex piece.”

“Complex as in dangerous?”

“Of course, but you humans carry around primitive firearms that are dangerous to  _ you  _ without concern.”

“Uh, actually Ratchet, there’s a huge amount of concern for this thing called the Second Amendment, which people tend to abuse for--”

“Is it dangerous to us, right now?” Fowler said, giving Raf a look. The boy shrank back and Ratchet scooped him up, glaring back.

“No, it is not. It’s inert while Shiro isn’t wearing it. He has been modified extensively for its use, primarily using neurochanneling, beyond the understanding of modern human technology, and out of Cybertronian purview  _ if  _ such a thing was even allowed, which it is not.”

“I am certain that Shiro would not pose a danger to us in any case,” Optimus said gravely as Ratchet set Raf down near his equipment. “He, and his team, exist to protect their universe.”

“That’s what  _ they  _ say,” Fowler muttered. “But who knows if what they’re saying is true.”

“You’re standing around in a bunker with a bunch of giant space aliens, how can you still be this paranoid?” Miko asked, and stood, pacing along Bulkhead’s shoulder while the grey-green mech kept very carefully still. “They’re not ‘Cons, they’re not M.E.C.H., they’re not even  _ from  _ this version of Earth. Re _ lax.” _

“You can relax because you’re a delinquent high school student,” Fowler reminded her. “I’m a government agent and they are standing in a base with the most advanced tech on this planet.”

Bee buzzed and chirped a few times, and Raf translated, “Technically, that’s Griffon Rock. They work on advanced prototypes that get passed along to the American military or domestic sectors.”

“Half of what comes out of Griffon Rock is impractical,” Ratchet said, grumbling. “Flobsters, honestly now. And they never cease bothering Optimus with trivial matters. Don’t they know there’s a  _ war  _ going on?”

“Technically, no,” Optimus said. “Rather, not that it’s happening here, on Earth. I have kept that from Team Sigma-17. I fear their priorities would change dramatically and place Griffon Rock in danger.”

“Wait,” Miko said, pausing. “Someone  _ else  _ has cool robots? And no one told me?!”

“Griffon Rock is a small community on the eastern coast of the United States,” Optimus said slowly. “They are a people of great innovators, inventors and pioneers. Due to several different factors, their island is inherently unstable. That was why I asked Rescue Team Sigma-17 to work with the humans there as a pilot project to bring humans and Autobots closer together.”

“Didn’t we count?” Miko scowled.

“While we value yourself, Raf, and Jack, along with Agent Fowler and Nurse Darby, we are part of a military operation. Your assistance, while irreplaceable, is not a test model for all human and Autobot interactions. We do not wish to bring Earth into this war. Not with so many civilians, so many innocent lives, at risk. Griffon Rock is almost entirely peaceful. Their conflicts are almost exclusively between man and nature, or man and machine. They don’t fear innovation, but sometimes it can get out of hand. Occasionally, they contend with human civilians who are more base in their desire for advancement. Thieves, primarily, rather than mercenaries like Silas.”

“Sounds kinda boring,” Miko said, after careful consideration. “No ‘Cons to smash?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of exciting,” Raf said. “All that tech? Getting to actually  _ live  _ with bots, not just visit?”

“I hope you aren’t thinking of packing your bags,” Ratchet said stiffly. “Your parents would be quite upset.”

“I couldn’t leave you or Bee, Ratchet,” Raf reassured him. “I just think it sounds exciting.”

“Yes, well, it isn’t all fun and games. The Rescue Bots and their human partners do full-time rescue work. Technology allows a few to do what many cannot. Assuming they manage to get along.”

“Heatwave has… warmed to his human partner, Kade,” Optimus said gravely. “And the rest of the team works together quite smoothly. I hope to find and train other appropriate Autobots for the task as well, given time. The war here keeps me quite busy. Fortunately, at least, things have settled down there. I haven’t heard from them in some time.”

“Oh, that’s because I filter your messages,” Ratchet said, and the Autobot leader turned to look at his dear friend. “What? There’s no need for half of them, they solve their own problems well enough. Sometimes I’ll aggregate them into one larger message for you to look at.”

“...that would explain the disjointed nature of some of them,” Optimus said. “Is there something now?”

Ratchet checked, and nodded. “Yes, it looks like one came in last night.”

“Put it on screen,” Optimus said, gesturing. Ratchet grumbled, and keyed the message up.

“Optimus, this is Team Sigma-17, calling from Griffon Rock. Heatwave speaking.” The large, red firebot shuffled briefly, and the Prime’s expression softened, as it often did to see him.

_ He is young,  _ Optimus thought fondly.  _ Too young to be so eager to be touched by war. If I could have protected others, protected Bumblebee or Arcee from this devastation, I would have. _

“We’ve received several guests here at the firehouse, warriors who say they come from another world, another reality. I don’t understand much of it, but Kade seems to. They’re looking for their friends, so could you use your base’s advanced scanning equipment to look for them? I have images of their vessels.”

“Is that--”

There were three of them, a small, slender green Lion, a sturdy looking blue, and a thickly armoured gold, all lying quiescent on the firehouse floor.

Bee made a long series of noises, and pointed. “You’re right, Bee, that’s all of them. One through five.”

“We must communicate with Griffon Rock immediately,” Optimus said. “Ratchet, open a channel and tell them we will send a ground--”

The tactical display lit up, blaring an alarm as green systems turned immediately to red. Ratchet spun from his console and moved to the other. “Our sensors are detecting an uncloaked Decepticon ship.”

“Who is it, another guest?” Fowler demanded. “Like Metalwing or Dreadhawk--”

“You mean Skyquake?”

“I mean, reinforcements,” Fowler said. “Who is it? Bring it up on screen.”

“Hold on to your horsepower,” Ratchet said sternly, and tapped at the keys. “I have a playback… here.”

At first, there was nothing on the sensory data, and the cameras flicked over Earth and its space, sector by sector. Then, a green portal opened in space, and a large white ship hurtled out of it. Moments later, it crashed through the debris of the Decepticon space portal, and then skidded and slid across empty space.

Despite the fact there was no sound to the images, there was a sharp thump.

“Allura?!” Shiro stared up at the image, his eyes wide. Keith stood at his side, his expression looking grave. “What’s--”

As the white ship listed away, the empty space fluttered and the cloaking field that concealed a massive purple, spiked ship fell away, exposing it.

“The  _ Nemesis,”  _ Optimus said, tone grim. “So, that’s where Megatron has been hiding.”

“That was the Castle,” Shiro cried. “It’s badly damaged, we have to get up there. Please--”

The rest of what the Paladin tried to express was lost in a long, discordant horn honk and the sound of two engines as a blue motorcycle and a pale blue sedan pulled up. The figure on the motorcycle pulled their helmet off, revealing a dark-haired young man.

“Darby Laundry, at your service,” said the boy. “Sorry it took so long. What’d we miss?”

~ * ~

The first thing that Pidge noticed when she awoke was that she was warm, which probably meant she was home. The Castle was, for obvious reasons, a little overly cold. Blankets got unnecessarily stuffy past two, and some days it felt like a personal reminder from the Alteans that they shouldn’t sleep in too late.

_ So, obviously I’m somewhere they don’t care about me sleeping in,  _ Pidge mused as her brain booted up. The second thing she noticed was that, as she inhaled, she could smell something delicious somewhere nearby. The third thing she noticed was, as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, was that she wasn’t alone.

Lance made a sleepy noise and tightened his arms around her. “Mm,  cinco minutos más, por favor.”

“What the--” Pidge pushed at him. “Lance, wake up!”

“Ah!” The Blue Paladin flailed backwards, dangling between two cots. “Pidge!”

“Where’s Hunk?” Pidge demanded. “What happened?!”

“How would I know, I  _ just  _ woke up!”

“You had some kind of genius plan to cuddle him into better health and now he’s disappeared!” Pidge cried back.

“Could you not yell?” Boulder said, his voice soft. “Graham is still sleeping, he had a long night. Your friend went upstairs, but we didn’t want to interrupt you. Besides, you seemed comfortable.”

“...felt awful,” Pidge muttered, scrambling off the cot.

“Worse sleep of my life,” Lance agreed, and in an undertone, “tell no one.”

“Not a word,” Pidge replied, and hurried to the elevator, before wheeling around. “Wait, Hunk’s  _ awake?!  _ Where is he?”

“Upstairs, can’t you smell it?” Boulder switched on his air intakes for a moment, then released them with a pleased smile. “So much better than when Dani makes breakfast.”

“Thanks.” Pidge hurried to the elevator, and Lance released it, sending it upstairs. When they stepped out, they ran to the kitchen, and slid three feet on a sock that was laying carelessly in the hallway. “Ahh!”

“Hi, guys,” Hunk said, and turned. The apron he wore had the torso and legs, though not the head, of a slender woman clad in a bikini. “You sleep well?”

“Hunk!” Pidge hurled herself forward, hugging him frantically, with Lance impacting against her other side as they both closed their arms around him. “You’re okay!”

Hunk wrapped his arms around both of them and held them tightly. “Yeah, sorry for scaring you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Pidge insisted. “Are you sure you should be awake like this? Did you see a doctor?”

“That EMT -- Dani? -- checked me over before she declared she was sleeping for two weeks, so I think I’m fine. Truth be told, I just feel kind of drained. Like the battle took a lot out of me. The Autobots explained what happened while I was out. We got really lucky, I think.”

“Seems like,” Lance said, and pulled back. “So, what are you making?”

“Everything in their fridge,” Hunk said, and gently steered Pidge around so he could go back to the stove. “I told them it was part of the recovery process, but mostly I wanted to cook things from a language I speak.”

“Lance told you about all the food they had while you were asleep,” Pidge said, leaning against him a little longer. “It was super embarrassing.”

“What can I say, I know my friends,” Lance said, glaring at Pidge behind Hunk’s back. “Pidge was all mopey.”

“I was  _ not.” _

“You were  _ too.” _

“Guys, I’m not Shiro, but for half a minute, pretend I am, and chill, okay?” Hunk laughed, and ruffled Pidge’s hair. “I woke up in the best hug ever, and I want to thank you for that. I think it helped.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Lance said, shrugging.

“It’s what friends are for,” Pidge said, and finally let Hunk go. “But if you want to make it up to us, we can help you eat this. Hey, where are the Burns’?”

“Dani and Graham are both asleep, Chief Burns is on patrol with the police bot, Chase, and Cody had to go to school. School, who even  _ does  _ that any more?” Hunk rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave him as he worked the stove expertly. “Kade is up in the... Command Centre, they called it, monitoring for emergency calls and ‘watching more old tv, just in case the Smurfs show up’. Any idea what that’s about?”

“Yeah, short version, we’re old tv to them,” Lance said. “But so are they to us. You remember Transformers, right?”

“You mean the one with Optimus Primal and Cheetor?”

“No, that was Beast Wars, or Beasties, or whatever stupid thing they called it so parents wouldn’t be mad about CGI gorillas punching CGI t-rexes.”

“Right,” Hunk said. “So we fell into a fictional universe? Cool.”

“I think it’s more complicated than that,” Pidge said, and took a seat. “It might be that we’re both real, in parallel realities, but because Voltron is real for us, no one came up with a tv show about it. Transformers aren’t, so we got shows and comics and toys. It’s the same for them. Transforming robots real, no mass-marketing toys to kids.”

“So, how do we get home?” Hunk asked, and slid some eggs onto a plate, setting them in front of her. “Bacon’s under that lid, the toast is coming. I had to fix the toaster so it didn’t make charcoal.”

“We don’t know yet,” Lance said, and flipped a chair around so he could lean his chin on the back as he sat. “We don’t know where Keith and Shiro are. We don’t know where Allura and Coran are. We don’t know if anyone survived.”

“You do not eat breakfast at my table with that kind of posture.”

“Oh, come on,” Lance grumbled, and grudgingly turned the chair. He was rewarded by more eggs, and then a stack of neatly browned toast. “This is serious.”

“Now that all three of us are awake, we can check on the Lions and see if we can set up some kind of a bacon -- I mean, beacon -- up so they can find us,” Pidge said. “And they left a message for some of their friends to contact them.”

“We fell out of the sky, right? Maybe someone saw us, and if they saw  _ us,  _ maybe they saw  _ them.” _

“If I can access some satellites, they might have caught something,” Pidge said. “...though I’m not sure how much this time and place has. Who knows, their satellites may be for dumb things, like tv and internet. Who even does that any more?”

“Mrrph,” Lance said, and kept eating.

“Best thing to do would be to ask, then,” Hunk said wisely, and went back to cooking. “Hey, if I made coffee, would anyone here drink it?”

“I’ve never really--”

A crack of sound caught their attention, and all three Paladins turned to see a dark purple attack drone fly by, rattling the firehouse windows in its wake.

“What was that?”

“Uh, Command Centre to kitchen, come in. Anyone there?”

Pidge got up and tapped the comm on the wall, near the doorway. “Kitchen here, what’s going on?”

“Just got a call from Doc Greene that we’re getting multiple incoming signals, approaching at speed. Whatever that was, it was just the first.”

“So, what  _ are  _ they?” Pidge asked. “Doesn’t Doc Greene know?”

“Well, he describes them as looking like Morbots, but bigger and meaner,” Kade said, and even through the comm, they could hear him swallowing. “Which means they look a lot like evil Autobots.”

“Decepticons,” Lance said softly, and swore. “They’re here.”

~ * ~

The Castle was dark, quiet, and cold. For a time, Coran had simply remained inside the teludav, as Allura had requested. He’d examined each and every one of the focusing lenses, polishing them, checking them for damage, making notes of the ones that needed to be replaced.

_ There’s no way to replace them,  _ Coran thought miserably, bitterly, even as he polished and worked.  _ Not in the middle of nowhere. _

By the time he’d made his way through them, the shaking had stopped, and most of the lights had gone out. He performed another round of checks to be sure, and then carefully opened the door and stepped outside.

Emergency lighting and a long walk had led him to the bridge, where the sight of it broke his heart. It was empty, as he expected, and a number of the consoles had been smashed, destroyed beyond repair, though the central one had retracted down into the floor, and despite dents and scratches over the panel, it had remained within.

_ So, if we can fix everything else, we can still get out of here, still survive. If that isn’t just a metaphor for this whole situation?  _ Coran sighed, and sat on the floor, burying his head in his hands. His forehead throbbed, and there seemed like too much that needed to be done.  _ Where do I start? Where do I even begin? _

He heard a soft squeaking, and looked up. The mice -- Allura’s mice -- gathered around him, emerging from hiding places inside the panels and machinery that were too hardy to smash, or too small to notice.

“I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a spot,” Coran said aloud, though he knew the mice couldn’t truly understand him. “Everything’s flown straight into the Maw. Those… things have taken the Princess, the Paladins are missing, and I’ve been left here on a ruined ship. I don’t know what to do.”

One of the mice, the largest of him, squeaked at Coran at length, and then, climbed up his shoulder, tugging at his hand.

“I don’t know what--” He sat up, and plucked the mouse from him to set it down. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. Allura can speak to you, not  _ me.  _ Allura’s the one who can make wormholes and fully unlock the Castle’s potential. Not Alfor, not the Channelers, just her. Just the person who can’t seem to stay out of trouble because she always wants to be a  _ hero. _ ”

The mice chittered, concerned. Their bead-black eyes grew wide.

“Allura’s mother was Queen Astora. Before Alfor married her, and even after, Astora was a general. She led armies in Altea’s defense. Alfor was the peacemaker, whenever he could be. He was the shield. She was the sword. Everyone expected her to be the Red Paladin. It would make sense, but it didn’t happen that way. She didn’t resent it, she just did her duty. Allura was only a baby when she was caught out during a battle. She died, with sword bared and bloody from her enemies, but it didn’t make it  _ better.  _ It didn’t bring her  _ back.  _ I knew her. I admired her. I watched Allura to grow up to be just like her. I don’t know what I’ll do if we lose Allura. I don’t know what any of us will do.”

The mice climbed onto him and curled up in warm spots against his neck. Coran sat back with a sigh, his hand pressing against the floor panel. Immediately, it began to rise, and Coran scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand cupped over the mice to keep them stable.

“By the Gods…”

The communication panel was still functioning, blinking as it demanded confirmation to send the signal. Over top of the glass, in smeared blood, was a single symbol: a V, with spikes forming on either side, representing five-as-one.

Voltron.

~ * ~

“ _ This  _ is the source of the damage to the  _ Nemesis?”  _ Megatron asked, and glared balefully down at the small organic figure held between Starscream’s talons. “I don't believe it.”

Allura raised her chin, defiant before the leader of the Decepticons. “Tyrants often delude themselves in the process of justifying their heinous acts against fellow sentients, which is how they get away with murder.”

Megatron snarled in reply, and then scowled at Starscream, “Where are the rest of the vehicons? Don’t tell me you lost them?”

“They were… destroyed,” Starscream said carefully. “Her ship’s defenses were formidable, but in the end, they could not defeat us. So I have brought you this prisoner for interrogation.”

“A curious kind of organic,” Megatron said, and extended a finger to tap on Allura’s chest, hard, until she sprawled back. “More resilient than the others the Autobots have recruited.”

“She claims that she has no connection with the Autobots, and spoke of another challenge to your rule. A ‘Zarkon’.”

“She  _ claims,  _ does she?” Megatron leaned in. “Which you immediately believed because--”

“ _ She  _ is the Lion Goddess,” Allura said, interrupting his posturing. “And  _ she  _ will be leaving now.”

Megatron laughed, the ex-vent hot and faintly sulfurous. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“Like this,” Allura dove left, off of Starscream’s hand, plummeting towards the ground. In her hand, her staff extended, and she whipped it to one side, dragging it along the flyer’s side and causing him to cry out as energon beaded out from the puncture.

“Get it off of me!” Starscream cried. “Get it off of me!”

Allura pivoted and launched herself clear, withdrawing the staff and rolling as she landed. Her momentum brought her to her feet and she began to sprint away towards the door.

“Stop her!” Megatron screamed. “Don’t let her get away!”

The door slid open, and a pair of vehicons stepped in. “Lord Megatron, what--”

“You fools!” Megatron bellowed and swung back, his massive fist crashing into the one on the left, crushing its head. “Close the doors! Close everything off!” As it fell, Allura dropped into a slide, and used her staff to push her forward, through the opening, and then rolled to her feet again.

_ Tyrants always make stupid mistakes, and they never look down,  _ Allura thought and continued to run. She looked this way and that, watching where the vehicons came from, storming down the halls.  _ They probably don’t need small craft, but if they have space ships, they have shuttles. If they have shuttles, I can find one. If I can find one I can sneak onto it and take it out of here. If I can take it out of here I can make it down to the planet. I hope Coran saw the message I left him. _

From behind her, she heard Megatron scream incoherently with rage, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith's reason for expulsion is a theory I have relating to my rewatch of S1, where they mention he flunked out due to a disciplinary issue.
> 
> Allura has never, at any point, been given a canonical mother, not a name, not an appearance, nada. So this is wholly of my creation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the pace for these is going to be slower as I am writing chapter-to-chapter, but I do have a clear end point set for these. Enjoy!

****The shouting that had erupted spread through the base, bouncing and echoing along the walls. Shiro had turned on the Autobots, insisting that they needed to get into space. Keith was accusing Ratchet of negligence for refusing to pass on messages. Ratchet, in turn, defended his position in the manner he often did, which was to say with biting sarcasm. Jack and Arcee, newly arrived, were trying to determine what had happened in their absence by being louder than everyone else. Fowler was trying to calm the situation by being louder than _them,_ which failed to work entirely.

Miko, Optimus suspected, just wanted to yell.

“Enough,” Optimus said, putting as much force into his voice as he could, while remaining calm rather than angry. Keith and Jack, bare moments before the others, turned to him and went quiet. “Thank you. This will avail us nothing. Ratchet, contact Sigma-17 as soon as you can. Agent Fowler, is there any way to get a rescue team to the Castle of Lions?”

“In _space?”_ Fowler asked. “No, it takes weeks, if not months to launch a ship into orbit.”

“Then we will have to wait for Sigma-17’s response. They _do_ have a ship.”

“Wait, you were sitting on an entirely different team _and_ they have a space ship?” Jack asked, incredulous. “Why didn’t you take _that_ up to the space bridge?”

“They were not on Earth at the time, and additionally, it is not a craft meant for conflict. The Sigma is a patrol ship. It has no weapons and few defenses.”

“Is that safe with a war going on?”

“They _did_ remain in stasis for a long time, Jack,” Optimus said gravely, and turned his gaze. “Shiro, while I understand your distress and desire to find your companions, you remain disarmed.” There was no humour in his words, only a grave seriousness at the situation. “Ratchet will return your arm to you, but without your Voltron, you may find it difficult to retrieve Princess Allura and Coran. I ask for your patience. Is it likely that she will survive the next few hours?”

Shiro’s expression was dire, but nodded once. “She’s the strongest person I know. If anyone can survive, she will, and everyone around her.”

“Then we will do this correctly, rather than quickly. We will unite your team and then you can proceed. Is that understood, Keith?”

Keith started, mid-scowl, and nodded once. “Fine.”

“Good. Autobots…”

“Come on, Keith,” Jack said. “Might as well get you that change of clothes while you wait.”

“Roll out.”

~ * ~

“What do we do?” Lance asked tensely. “We might be able to fight them, but the Autobots are robots in _disguise._ We might blow things for them.”

“Does that really matter if these people get hurt or killed?” Hunk asked, and turned off the stove, taking everything off the fire. “Where’s our armour? Our bayards?”

“The Balmera thing really changed you, didn’t it?” Pidge murmured, though Hunk didn’t answer.

[Don’t jump the gun,] Kade warned. [I want you guys to get comms so you can be looped in on our conversations. We all have spares, we keep them in the bunker.]

“On it,” Lance said, and jerked his head towards the others, all humour falling away. The Paladins made their way back downstairs, and Pidge felt breakfast weigh heavily in her stomach.

Boulder, Blades, and Heatwave met them downstairs, their large faces expressive with concern.

“What was that?” Heatwave demanded. “It sounded like a low-flying jet.”

“What?!” Blades cried. “Everyone knows low-flying jets kidnap people, especially minibots! Is Cody okay?!”

“Blades, _no one_ thinks that,” Heatwave snapped. “Kade, report.”

[Blades is right about the low-flying jet,] Kade said. [It’s… purple, though I don’t think it’s manned. It seems too narrow. I’m not the person to ask about flying, Dani is. Doc Greene’s reporting multiple others too, flying around Griffon Rock.]

“Trust me, those are Decepticons,” Lance said. “Whatever version you have here probably still has a lot of jets and flying units. They must have seen us come down.”

“Except that there _are_ no Decepticons on Earth, genius,” Heatwave said. “Optimus would have told us.”

“Wow, Keith, you’re looking huge today,” Lance muttered, and Pidge elbowed him.

“There’s a non-zero chance Zarkon’s forces could have made it into the wormhole,” Pidge said. “If it _is_ the Galra, they’d still be just as much a danger to the people of this island.”

“Is no one trusting my knowledge of ancient television any more?” Lance demanded. “Come on!”

“The eighties weren’t _that_ long ago,” Hunk pointed out. “But I agree with Lance. We know Galra fighters, and these aren’t the same.”

[Team, it doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong,] Chief Burns broke in. [There’s still a danger. If they aren’t awake already, get Dani and Graham up. We need all hands on deck for this. Lance, Keith, Pidge, I can’t rightly ask you to help with the evacuation, but if you can help report the movements of those bots, I’d appreciate it. Right now, Doc Greene’s story about them being a new kind of Morbot has helped keep people from being suspicious, but that won’t hold if they do something particularly strange. We need to get people to the underground bunkers _now.]_

[I’m awake, Dad,] Dani said. [I’ll be up in the air in five. Blades, roof, right now please.]

“Assuming I’m still there and not snatched up by a low-flying jet,” Blades muttered, but hurried off to the lift.

[We need to get Cody back to the firehouse,] Kade said. [He can watch the cameras. You need me out there.]

[I can get him, Dad,] Graham said, and yawned for five seconds straight. [Ooh, sorry. Boulder and I aren’t fast anyway.]

[There’s… a small problem with that.] Cody’s voice, barely more than a whisper, came over the comm. [Sorry, we’re in the gym, and the entire school’s here. There’s a big, purple bot outside the school.]

“What’s he look like, Cody?” Heatwave asked, tension pinging through his frame. “Does he have a symbol somewhere on him?”

[I didn’t get a good look, but he didn’t have a face like yours. More like a Morbot, but a purple triangle, sort of. Long, skinny arms and legs. I think he was directing the others, but he never spoke out loud, and some kind of little plane detached from his chest. I didn’t see more before they got us into the gym.]

“No,” Heatwave said, his face looking drawn. “It can’t be.”

[What is it, Heatwave?] Chief Burns asked. [Anything you know could be important.]

“I know we’re in a lot of trouble,” Heatwave said heavily, “because I recognize Cody’s description. It’s Soundwave, Megatron’s communications and surveillance officer. More importantly, he’ll recognize Autobots even in vehicle mode. Blades, Chase, get inside and under cover, now!”

~ * ~

Allura pressed herself against the wall and watched the vehicons march through the halls. She adjusted her appearance another fraction, hoping that between the shadows and her natural Altean gifts, no one would spot her.

 _Unless they have heat sensors. Then I’m up excretion creek without a steering mechanism._ Slowly, she made her way along the corridor, and then froze as a conversation caught her attention.

“--prisoner. Lord Megatron will have all our heads if she escapes.”

“Yes, sir, Knockout,” said one of the vehicons, and they saluted. Allura watched the bright red bot walk down one corridor, while the vehicons went down the other.

 _Aha,_ Allura thought. _There’s someone else here. Obviously, I have to rescue them._ Allura pushed off the wall and hurried after them, trying to limit her movement during the sound of heavy, clanging feet. Fortunately, they seemed not to hear the skitter-soft sound of her footsteps.

The vehicons moved deep into the ship, far away from bulkheads likely to open due to decompression or be strafed by enemy fire. Their target seemed to be a small storage unit, deep in the heart of the _Nemesis._

 _Intriguing,_ Allura thought. _I wonder what they’re hiding in here._

One of the vehicons stood to the side, while the other keyed open the door. Allura dashed forward, following so close behind that she feared any movement would be her end. Inside the room was a human woman, old enough that her orange-red hair was liberally streaked with white. She was dressed in a plain jump suit with a white coat thrown over top, and didn’t look up from her seat at her desk.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Human, there is an escapee onboard,” the vehicon said, and Allura froze, hoping she was out of line of sight. “Have you seen anything?”

“Why would _I_ see anything, when you don’t let me out of my room?” the woman demanded. “Who’s broken into the ship _now?”_

“...do not concern yourself,” said the vehicon. “Remain in your room.”

“Yes, yes…” the woman muttered. “Go.”

Allura moved carefully, ducking close to the wall, watching as the vehicon backed out of the room to turn around. The door hissed closed, and Allura released the breath she didn’t realize she’d held.

“Come on out,” the woman said, still not looking away from her desk. “They’re too busy to check the monitors right now.”

Allura let her camouflage fade. “How did you see me?”

“I looked down,” the woman replied. “Who are you?”

“My name is Princess Allura of Altea. I was taken prisoner and I am now in the process of escaping. Who are you?”

“My name is Doctor Dorothy Burns, of Griffon Rock,” the woman replied. “You’re quite brave. This is a big ship, and escape is difficult.”

“I’m a trained warrior and a Channeler,” Allura said. “Besides, I have no choice. I must find my friends and rescue Coran. The only way to do that was to get onto thi s ship, and then, get down to the planet… are we on Earth?”

“We’re in orbit above it, but close enough,” Dorothy said, and gestured. “Come, sit down. Things will settle down eventually, once they can’t find you.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Allura said, and sat down, folding her hands, though her entire body vibrated with tension. “How did you come to be here?”

Finally, the woman turned, and her expression was drawn, aged and tired the way her father’s had been before he’d fallen against Zarkon. “I’m a geologist. I study minerals and rock formations. I was one of the first on Earth to discover energon, the energy source that Cybertronians of all kinds use to survive. It’s their blood, their ammunition, their food. Their society is dependent on it.”

“Cybertronians… those are what those things are called?”

“Yes, or Transformers. Megatron leads the Decepticons, and Optimus Prime the Autobots. There are neutral parties to their war, though they rarely speak of it. I was initially recruited by the American government to work with Optimus Prime and his followers to help them find and extract the energon here on Earth… which is how I ran afoul of the Decepticons. They identified me as a target they could exploit and took advantage of that. I have to assume the Autobots were incapable of rescuing me for some reason. Megatron forced me to develop a special method of detecting a rare version of energon called, rather uncreatively, dark energon. Once he was done with me, they kept me here. It's… boring, but it allows me to work in peace.”

“I’ll get you out of here,” Allura promised, and strained her jaw holding back a yawn. “We need to find a shuttle or--”

“They don't use them, or at least, not here,” Dorothy replied, and Allura slumped. “We’ll need access to the ground bridge.”

“What's a… ground bridge?”

“It's a form of wormhole technology, allowing travel from one fixed point to another. They use it to travel from the ship to their mining sites and back again.”

“Wormhole…” Allura’s eyes widened. “How do they travel in space?”

“Predictably, through a space bridge,” she replied. “But since the distance a space bridge covers is so vast, it requires special construction, and are usually in orbit rather than inside ships.”

“I think I may have crashed the Castle through one.”

“The Autobots had destroyed it anyway, you didn't make it much worse.” Dorothy sighed heavily. “They have so many resources, so much strength and power. It's frustrating. What about this castle of yours?”

“It's a warship, a battle platform, and the launching point for a super weapon called Voltron. I'm its pilot. The Castle that is. My friends pilot Voltron.”

“That sounds like science fiction.”

“Well, you _were_ kidnapped by aliens.”

“A fair point.” Dorothy considered. “So, what happened to it?”

“We were in battle with our enemy’s forces, and forced to flee. The wormhole became unstable and we exited it in a hurry. I became separated from the Lions, and we were forced to land on the moon.”

“We?”

“The Castle’s mechanic, Coran, was with me on the ship. I made sure he wasn’t captured so he could repair it while I served as a distraction.” This time, Allura couldn’t hold back her yawn. “I need to get back to him as soon as I can. If the Castle was too badly damaged, he won’t survive long.”

“...so your plan was…”

“To fight against the Decepticons as fiercely as I could, but when the defenses ultimately failed, they would find me, alone, and take me prisoner, then I would escape from their ship, find the Paladins of Voltron, and then we would return together to the Castle. I hadn’t accounted for the lack of shuttles.”

“Or me, but that’s fine. Very few do. Your plan isn’t impossible. I know how to use the ground bridge, but my means of escape are limited. I do have an idea, though. Cybertronians don’t eat as humans do, and to keep me alive, they have a schedule they use to remember to feed me, bring me clothing, and take away waste. They’ll find it suspicious if their alarm goes off now, but the next time they arrive, those doors will open.”

Allura’s gaze brightened. “I can jam the door open if they’re too busy going about their routine. Once the door stays open, we’ll be able to get out, but only if we’re quick.”

“I can be quick, but you need to sleep.” Dorothy gestured. “You’re exhausted and you’ve spent all this time running and fighting. Take a nap, and I’ll be packed and ready by the time they show up.”

“...I suppose there’s no way to hurry that, is there?” Allura frowned.

“No, there isn’t. If you’re lucky, I’ll even tell you a story. But you’re not wearing boots to bed.”

“I like stories,” Allura said, and stripped her boots off. She gripped at her staff, and set it down on the bed before laying down, and looked up at the human woman. Dorothy turned, gazing down at the Altean.

“Once, when I was young, I lived on an island of technical marvels. Everything there was new and exciting. Scientists were loved by the community, but they weren’t the leaders. Not entirely. The true leaders of the community were the rescue workers: the police chief, the fire and ambulance departments. Whenever something would go wrong, and they would indeed go wrong, those rescue workers would race out to stop it.”

Allura shifted a little, tucking her arm under the pillow. “They must have been very brave. Heroes.”

“That was them, and they all came from the same genetic line. A family of heroes.” Dorothy smiled sadly. “While in the past there had been sea captains and explorers -- even a pirate, or so some claimed -- their current patriarch was the police chief, and the eldest of his sons was promising to follow in his footsteps. Charlie Burns. He was a kind young man. Serious, studious, devoted. Never afraid to be late to soccer practice if it was to help someone in trouble. Above all, he put the needs of the community ahead of everything else, including himself. Especially himself.”

“...while that’s to be admired, it can be hard on those who don’t feel the same way,” Allura observed, and gripped at the pillow. “Especially if others worry about them.”

“It’s true, but there was still a lot to admire anyway. He had a younger brother, Woodrow, who was… not like that. Woody, as they called him, was an explorer. He loved to poke and prod and get lost due to carelessness. Charlie spent plenty of time rescuing _him_ before Woody decided to go where Charlie couldn’t follow, into the great, wide world.”

Dorothy bowed her head, and Allura was struck, once again, by how much she resembled King Alfor. She said nothing, merely watching her and listening intently.

“Charlie doubled down on his devotion to Griffon Rock. He became a police officer and worked with his father to protect the community until the old police chief retired due to an injury. For a time, he was alone. It was a hard time for him, but he had good things too. He had love. Little Dottie Delaney, crazy about rocks and all grown up after time on the mainland. Not so little any more. I loved him. I loved him and he infuriated me. He was so easy-going and I was… temperamental. Proud. Still, we married, and lived in a little white house with a picket fence and a dog -- Rover -- with just enough room to have a nursery for the baby. My oldest son, Kade.”

Allura closed her eyes, and even with the differences between humans and Alteans, she could imagine it, soft hands and kind eyes, a patient voice and the soft, strained cry of an infant. “Go on,” she murmured sleepily.

“Things got a little harder. It was difficult for him to take his long shifts alone, and I needed to spend time away from home. Days, weeks sometimes. I had conferences to attend and work schedules to meet. I had a new project, the start of my work with energon, and I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way. When Kade was a year and a half old, I was pregnant again, this time with my daughter, Danielle. Kade was… sulky and difficult, mostly because of all my time away from home. I tried my best with him, but with the new baby… and then another. Graham, my second son.”

“Lucky,” Allura yawned out. “I was only ever an only child. I would have loved a brother and sister.”

“Well, I hope you get the chance to have a big family someday,” Dorothy said, and brushed at her lab coat. “For myself and my husband, it was hard. I never had time to myself. Charlie was constantly trying to find new people to fill out emergency services and no one wanted to stay in a tiny, sleepy little town where hardly anything ever happened. Who’d even heard of Griffon Rock? That was when I… left, for a time. I went to the mainland, I worked with my peers, I studied… it was freeing. Overwhelmingly, uncomfortably so. I felt guilty about feeling good. I considered not coming back. It would have hurt my family very badly, assuming they weren’t feeling abandoned already. I know they weren’t coping well. Kade was… difficult. Very difficult. We were always too much alike.”

“I’m sorry,” Allura said softly, and reached her hand out. Dorothy stared at it, then patted it a little, but didn’t take it.

“When I went back, so much had changed. They were truly starting to innovate. They had a new town scientist and countless inventions. A young, bright mayor that had big ideas. I thought I could stay and for a time, I did. I had my youngest, Cody. I promised myself… this one, I was going to raise right. I was going to be there for him. He was a toddler when I was called by the government to discuss my work on energon. One last trip, I promised Charlie. I couldn’t turn it down. With new technology in video conferencing, I could communicate from the comfort of home. I would get to attend soccer games, recitals, anything and everything. I would watch them graduate.”

“...but you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dorothy sighed. “Because I met Optimus Prime. I worked to get the Autobots settled, and then, at a crucial moment, the Decepticons kidnapped me. They put me to work. And now here I am, ten years later. My children likely think that I hate them. That I just left them. I wouldn’t blame them if that’s what they believed, because hadn’t I done it before? I just want to go home. I just want to tell my children and my husband how sorry I am.”

“You will,” Allura said. “I promise that you’ll get to go home and see them. Even if I have to stab Starscream a thousand times.”

“You’re a kind little space elf,” Dorothy said, and stood. The older woman lifted the blanket up and draped it over Allura, covering her gently. “Now, go to sleep. You need your strength if you’re to help me get home.”

“What,” Allura asked, as she felt herself drift off, “is an elf?”

~ * ~

The Castle was cold and dark, and as Coran worked, he could feel his breath puff out. For the plan to work -- and he would be damned to the depths of the Maw before he failed Allura -- he’d had to reroute all the power everywhere within the ship to the bridge. He’d opened each Paladin’s room and taken all of the blankets they had, bringing them with him to the bridge. He wrapped himself in as many of them as he could to keep the cold out, and, for a time, the mice had helped him, but now they huddled inside the remainder of the blankets, pressed together and doing what they could to keep themselves warm.

“My grandfather helped build this Castle,” Coran said, talking to the mice to keep himself warm. “No one seems to find that nearly as interesting as I do. Six hundred and... ten thousand years ago, I suppose. Fascinating stuff when he talked about it. He was a genius.”

He scanned over the wiring. So much of it had been pulled out and rerouted. There were no shields, not any more. No more food goo from the kitchens -- he’d extracted a few days’ worth so that he had something to keep him going, but if this failed, he’d freeze to death before he starved. The training decks, the launch tubes, the weapons systems… all of it sacrificed towards one goal, the marked console.

Communications.

“He said that from the beginning of our history, the Altean royal family was special, different from all the others. They had special gifts. They could channel their personal quintessence to heal others. To grow things. All Alteans could alter their appearance, but the royal line could push that gift to its limit. No one could manipulate quintessence quite like the Kings and Queens of old.”

Coran forced himself up, and shuffled to the console. He tapped at it briefly, and nothing happened. He sighed out a breath and watched it drift away before moving to the next panel. There were safeties to be adjusted, after all.

“The things Allura does? The wormholes? The way she communicated with the Balmera? The healing ritual? All of it part of her special gift. We live a long time, we Alteans. Definitely compared to mice and humans. Quintessence is energy, energy is life… and life is time. Following me so far?”

The mice chittered, and Coran knelt down by another panel, his knees feeling stiff. He removed the panel carefully, and began to snip the safety wires one by one. With each cut, power transferred into the communications console, and the hum began to increase in pitch and tone.

“Almost…” he murmured. “Almost there. When Alfor -- when Allura -- use their gifts, it takes time from them. Expending their energy draws from their very life force. For simple things, it’s only a few ticks at a time. For more complex ones, hours. Sometimes days. The Balmera took a month from her. A whole month! She told me not to tell the others. She’s so courageous and it… frightens me. It frightens me a great deal. It frightens me because she’s the last of us and when we lose her… it’s all over.”

Coran waited, watching, as some of the panels sparked, then stopped, as though having no energy to even protest their misuse.

“Sorry, Grandad. I’ll put it to rights once we’re safe.” Coran hauled himself up again, his knees protesting, and made his way to the console. He brushed his fingertips over the drying symbol, and input the message. One word, but it’s all they needed. _Voltron._ “The real trouble is, Allura won’t back down from a challenge. She won’t give up, she won’t stop using her powers. Not when others are in danger. Alfor couldn’t have created a greater master commander for Voltron. I wonder if he knew what the future held. Who knows? They’re not supposed to have the ability to see the future.”

Coran’s head swam. He hadn’t slept enough. He’d lost too much blood. It was too cold here. He hit the ‘transmit’ button, and switched it to repeat before sinking down. He half-crawled to the pile of blankets with the mice.

_Paladins, please. Save Allura..._

As he gave in to the cold, he thought he could feel movement, but then his eyes were shut, and he slept.

~ * ~

“So, to sum up the situation, there’s an actual, for-real Decepticon outside that’s insanely dangerous and capable of hacking any technology it can get its hands on, we have a rescue team that can’t do their jobs because their rescue vehicles are the Decepticon’s sworn enemies, and there’s nothing to stop it from just opening fire? Do I have that all right?”

“Two points, Hunk,” Lance said. “One, I’m pretty sure Soundwave’s a ‘he’.”

“Lance, could you not--”

“And two, he won’t go after the Autobots if we give him another target. He’s not here for them. He can’t be. The only thing that changed for this island between yesterday and today is _us._ We are the ones who led Soundwave here, so we need to lead him away.”

[We can’t ask you to do that,] Chief Burns said. [You’re high school students and Hunk was comatose until last night. It’s far too dangerous for you to--]

“We’re the Paladins of Voltron,” Pidge said, pulling a face. “We’re not helpless kids.”

[And don’t you need _five_ of your bots to make Vol-whatever?] Chief Burns demanded. [What about the other two?]

“We can’t wait for them and we don’t need to,” Lance said. “Is there another way out of here?”

[Tunnels,] Graham said. [Dozens of them, some of which go all the way down to the beach.]

“Good, then Pidge, Hunk, and I will get in our Lions and fly out to the beach. We’ll draw Soundwave away from the island, and hopefully his little drone too. Where are your most populated areas? We can avoid them.”

[You’ll need help,] Dani said. [Our help. Let Graham and I come with you. We can direct you through the tunnels so you don’t get lost. It’s our home too, Dad. We’ve saved it from fires, floods, greedy investors and evil scientists. We can save it from this.]

[I don’t like this,] Chief Burns said, tension in his voice. [If your mother were here--]

[She’s not, though, and hasn’t been for a long time,] Kade said. [He’s starting to get restless. If he goes to Doc’s… who knows what he’ll find. We need to move fast.]

[Go, but for the love of… everything, be careful, all of you.]

“When are we ever not careful?” Lance said, and switched off the comm.

“Is now a bad time to mention that time you soaked an entire explosion with your face?”

“It was with my back, thank you Hunk.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Okay, Burns’, what is it you guys say?”

“ _I_ say it, for the record,” Heatwave said. “And if something happens to my partner, your Lions _won’t_ save you. I can promise you that.”

“Way, way too Keith for my liking,” Lance said, and shrugged. “So, one Burns per Lion… Pidge, take Graham. Hunk, you’re a little slower, take Kade I guess. I’ll take the lay-day.”

“My name is Dani,” said the EMT from the elevator, her brothers on her heels. “...but yes, I think I should definitely take the Blue Lion.”

Lance blinked slowly. “Okay. Cool. Blue is the best colour, obviously.”

“Dani, I _don’t_ like this,” Blades protested. “I know you like to fly, but what about _me?”_

“Does anyone have a better plan?” Heatwave demanded. “Anyone at all. No? Then zip it and get in gear.”

Kade eyed his partner for a moment. “You gonna say it?”

“They’re not Autobots.”

“Come _on,_ Heatwave. It’s good luck.”

“Fine,” said the firetruck, gritting his denta. “Rescue Bots -- and guests -- _roll to the rescue.”_

The six humans hurried towards the Lions, and almost before they reached them, the Lions were awake, eyes glowing and mouths open to receive visitors.

“Dani Burns, meet the Blue Lion,” Lance said proudly, and tilted his head when he saw the expression on her face, one he recognized.

Connection.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lance asked. “Dani?”

“We have to go,” Dani replied softly. “We need to save my family and my home.”

“After you, but I get to drive,” Lance said, and waited for her to walk inside. The older girl’s expression was one of awe, of understanding, as though she could hear the way the Lion sang in his head in greeting and was as eager to get moving as she was.

“Take the tunnel and start heading left. Kade and Graham will take you the others in different directions, but you’ll all get out eventually. If we can make them think you’re rising from the water, they might believe you were never on the island at all.”

“Sure thing.” Lance fiddled with the controls, and his Lion took off running. Blue’s eyes brightened as Dani stood over his shoulder, directing him. Her gaze kept falling to the socket by his right hand. “What?”

“What does that do?”

“I plug my bayard into it and it pulls up a new weapon,” Lance said. “Our Lions have gifts we don’t even know about. We’re unlocking them, it’s a process.”

“...so what special powers does yours have?”

“Also a work in progress, but Hunk and Keith both unlocked theirs, and Pidge is the shield, obviously. Keith forms the sword, Hunk forms a big shoulder cannon thing, with missiles. We take out giant monsters with them. It’s pretty sweet.”

“Fighting monsters isn’t really my thing,” Dani said. “Though helping people is. That way, through that tunnel. Crouch low, so you don’t damage the pipes.”

“Got it,” Lance said, and glanced over at her. “It wasn’t my thing either, not before I met Blue. I wanted to be a fighter pilot. What about you?”

“Me? I’ve always wanted to be an EMT. I’ve done other things, of course. I have hobbies. Flying, shopping, playing Burns-ball with my brothers and father… ship spotting too, sometimes. But being an EMT -- being a _rescue worker --_ was my dream.”

“Like… your mom?”

“Definitely not. Mom was -- is, I guess -- a scientist. A geologist. She studies rocks. Exciting stuff, or it would have to be, since she spent most of our lives away from home.” Dani shrugged, and gripped at the pilot chair. “...and she hasn’t come back. She left when Cody was still a toddler.”

“I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” Lance said. “I can’t even imagine… my mom, my family, they mean everything to me. I miss them a lot.”

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon, but you get why Dad’s sensitive about the whole thing.” Dani sighs. “Part of me hopes something happened, that there’s a reason she left us, but another part of me… no, she didn’t care all that much about us. That’s why family means so much to us. This place, this town. It’s home. It’s where people care about each other, even if they get frustrated. Even if they don’t always seem to.”

“Well, trust me, team Voltron is on this,” Lance said, keeping his voice reassuring. “We’ll keep your home safe.”

Dani’s expression softened, and she ran her fingers along the piloting chair in a way that Lance found eerily familiar. “I know that you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who *also* doesn't canonically have a mother that anyone mentions or talks about? That's right, the Burns kids. There are not even pictures of her on their walls. So I made something up! Also things I made up? About how the Altean psychic powers work. Because I enjoy hurting those I love.


End file.
